


Dye

by DonTheRock



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Ambi - Freeform, Edgy, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Good Hair Crew (Andi Mack), Homophobia, Kippen Siblings, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, T. J. Kippen & Amber Are Siblings, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Tyrus - Freeform, Underage Drinking, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-02-07 04:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 36,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18613156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonTheRock/pseuds/DonTheRock
Summary: The night before their first day at Grant High School, Cyrus, Andi, and Buffy make it a goal to all get boyfriends in high school. Pretty quickly, Cyrus crosses paths with TJ, a basketball jock who has no plans to fall for a boy like Cyrus anytime soon, while Andi meets TJ's sister, Amber, who is openly gay to everyone except her family. With both siblings struggling with their identities, they learn that they may have more in common than they previously thought. All the while, TJ's mixed signals cause Cyrus to question who he should be with, and Andi's strange attraction to someone whom her parents call a bad influence forces Andi to face some difficult truths about herself.





	1. Prologue

**Andi's POV**

 

"When are Cyrus and Jonah getting here?" Bex asks.

She comes over to lower down into the chair adjacent to the couch where Buffy and I sit. I'm having all my friends over for a movie night, so a bowl of popcorn waits patiently on the coffee table for my other two friends to show up. 

"They should be here any minute," I answer. 

"Awesome," my mom responds. "I can't believe tomorrow you'll be a high schooler. Are you excited?"

"Yeah," I say. "I'm also a little terrified, but that's water under the bridge."

Buffy chuckles a little, saying, "It'll be great."

If Grant were a normal high school, I'd stand more with Buffy on this opinion, but it's not. Grant is a self-directed school, which basically means that there are no classes. The students just show up for the school day and do their work as they wish, learning from textbooks and paper guides put together by the teachers, who are also there to help answer questions. But the general idea is that the students get to decide what subject to work on, when to work on it, and in what room. Then once one is finished a unit, they can take the test in the testing centre or hand in the assignments in a drop box, the only due date being the end of the year. An upside of a school like Grant, and the reason why my mom let me go there, is because the students there tend to get higher marks than those at regular schools. But my friends and I chose Grant mostly just for the freedom it gives us. 

"But it's going to be so different," I refute. "We have to learn how to do things in a completely new type of school system. Plus there's just the typical teenage drama, which, frankly, I could barely deal with in middle school."

"First of all," Buffy begins, "we'll figure out how things work. And second, we got through all kinds of drama in middle school. We can definitely handle high school."

"Buffy's right," my mom agrees. "High school is fun. You just have to watch out for the kids who are into the wrong stuff—like the edgy girls in Doc Martens. They're trouble."

"Weren't you one of those girls?" I ask. 

"Well, yeah," she admits. "I was trouble."

Buffy and I both laugh. 

"You don't have to worry that," I say. 

"Definitely," Buffy attests. "As her best friend, I'll make sure she doesn't fall in with the wrong crowd."

Bex gives Buffy a smile before standing up. She knows that as long as my friends are by my side, we'll always be okay. So if Buffy is confident that high school will be a breeze, then I trust that she'll make it work, no matter what happens. Even if things don't go her way, she's far too stubborn to give up. That's one of her best qualities in my opinion. 

 

**Cyrus' POV**

 

Jonah and I walk together down the street. The sun is setting, causing our surroundings to have an orange tint. Our feet patter on the concrete as we stroll toward Andi's house. Jonah's been away for the whole summer and just got back to Shadyside yesterday, so I'm eager to catch up with my friend and hear what I missed out on while he was gone. 

"How was ultimate camp?" I ask. 

"It was fun," Jonah answers. "I think I'm getting a lot better, and I might make that team this year."

"That's great," I respond. "Did you make any friends?"

"Yeah, a ton."

"None better than me, Andi, and Buffy, though, right?"

Jonah smiles. "None better than you guys."

I feel relieved to know that he didn't leave and find newer, better people to hang out with. He's been a part of our friend group for almost two years now, and I definitely see him as a member of the Good Hair Crew at this point.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see you guys sooner than the day before school starts up again," Jonah says. "But let's catch up now. Did you do anything cool over the summer? Did you make any friends? Did you meet any boys?"

He gives me a nudge to the shoulder, and I laugh.

"Nope. No boys," I reply. 

"Yeah, I figured you would've at least texted to let me know if you did," Jonah responds. "Maybe you'll meet someone in high school."

"Maybe."

As we turn to walk up to Andi's door, the girl swings open the door. She immediately goes in to give Jonah a hug. 

"It feels like I haven't seen you in forever," she says as she lets him go. "How was camp?"

Jonah and I step inside and walk over to join Buffy on the couch. After closing the door, Andi takes a seat on the chair next to it, leaning her elbow on the armrest. 

"It was good," Jonah replies. "I'm not ready for the summer to be over."

"Neither am I," Andi concurs. 

"Come on, guys," Buffy says from the couch. "It'll be fun. There will be be tons of new people to meet."

"Yeah," Jonah agrees. "I was just telling Cyrus how he might find a boyfriend in high school."

Buffy and Andi flick their heads to me, both grinning at the idea, causing my face to heat up in the embarrassment of this attention. 

"He definitely will," Buffy says. "You're too amazing to be still be single in high school. We all are. In fact, that should be our goal: we will all get boyfriends in high school. Well, except Jonah."

Jonah lets out a chuckle as he nods, but I give him a glance, saying, "You never know."

"I'm pretty sure I know," Jonah counters. 

The girls laugh along with him. Of us all, only Andi and Jonah have ever been in relationships before, but I'm sure Buffy will find someone. But me? I'm not sure. I would love to find a boyfriend, but I don't know how I'd find a guy I like who likes me back, let alone get the courage to talk to him. But I'm not going to kill the mood by sharing this perspective, so I just laugh along with my friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have a lot of ideas, and I'm working to put them together, so we'll see how this goes. The self-directed school thing is because I went to a self-directed high school, and it was one of the best experiences of my life, so Grant is going to have a lot of similarities to my high school. I hope you guys find it to be interesting and not just overly complicated, because I think it opens so many doors for the plot to go through. Thanks for reading, and I hope I don't disappoint you all. I'm going to work really hard to make this good. Thanks!


	2. As in the Gem

**Cyrus' POV**

 

"My TA said it would be easier by the second week," Andi says as her, Buffy, Jonah and I enter the school on Monday. "I think she lied."

"You'll figure things out," Jonah tells her. "It just takes time."

"I guess," Andi says, "but I have to sign up for an English seminar, and I honestly have no idea how to do that."

"There's a sheet in the English room," Jonah explains. "I'll show you after TA."

"That would be great," Andi says.

We enter into the stairwell where Jonah and I have to split from Buffy and Andi, because our lockers are on the first floor, while theirs are on the fifth. The levels in the school are split, so that levels one, three and five are on the left side, while levels two and four are on the right. This means that the stair distance between each floor is fairly small, because each floor is only half a level higher than the previous one. 

"We'll save you guys spots in science," Buffy says before her and Andi leave to go upstairs. 

Rather than having multiple small classrooms, there are just a few big ones, one for each subject that is taught. There, the teachers for each rooms' subject wait at desks for kids to ask questions, but anyone can work on any subject in those rooms. For the past week, the Good Hair Crew has been working in science, so naturally we'll be there again today. 

Jonah and I step through the doors to the first floor and start down the hall toward our TA rooms.

"So assume you haven't met anyone yet," Jonah says. 

"If you're talking about a boy, I have not," I reply. 

"We're only a week in," he goes on. "There's lots of time."

Sure, there's plenty of time, but it's been a week, and I've still only spoken to my friend group. That's the downside of not having set classes: there's no simple way to meet anyone new, although Jonah's already spoken to quite a few people just by going up and introducing himself. That seems to be a socially acceptable way to meet people here which isn't so common at normal schools. Unfortunately, I'm not exactly skilled at randomly approaching people to force my friendship on them. 

Before Jonah turns to go into his own TA room, he tells me, "I'll see you in science."

"Yup."

He gives me a wave as he disappears into the international languages room, and I continue down the hall until I reach the Mac lab. Inside, the kids in my TA sit on stools, which are each placed at a Mac computer. At the back, some kids lean up against the long desk attached to the wall. I notice an empty spot on the right and go over there to wait for the morning announcements to come on.

As I wait, my eyes catch sight of a blonde-haired boy entering the room. He comes to TA everyday, but I've never spoken to him before. When I first saw him, I think my heart stopped due to how attractive he is, and I've considered talking to him multiple times, but I always remember that he's probably one of those popular boys with a beautiful girlfriend, and I manage to talk myself out of it. As he stands alone across the room from me now, I think I'm actually going to do it. I feel my foot take a step forward, and then . . . 

His friend, another blonde boy who's already missed TA at least three times last week goes up to the boy I was about to talk to and gives him a bro hug. As they get into a conversation, I fall back against the desk, feeling everything inside of me drop with the vaporization of my courage. 

Then a brown-haired boy comes up on my left, asking, "Yo, you got an eraser I can borrow?"

I snap out of my gaze and turn my focus to the kid talking.

"No, sorry," I reply. 

"That's okay," he says. "I'll just be Mary for this assignment."

He chuckles a little as he scribbles out a line on a math booklet. He writes something beside the scribble in pencil, probably a correction to his name.

"I'm Marty," he says, "not Mary."

I smile, laughing along with him a bit. 

"Cyrus," I say. 

"Cool. So you know TJ?" he asks, nodding in the direction of the boy I was just staring at. 

"Uh, no," I reply. "I was just, uh, observing, I guess."

"Well, I'll give you the rundown," Marty offers. "TJ Kippen: former captain of Jefferson's basketball team, going to try out for Grant's team, but everyone already knows he's going to be on it."

"Are you friends with him?" I ask, curious as to how Marty knows so much about this boy. 

"Nah," Marty answers. "I just had four classes with him in middle school, but he still has no clue who I am. TJ doesn't really care about anyone who isn't also a jock, except for his two sidekicks who always show up late for everything. If you want to talk to him, I suggest you join a sports team first."

"You don't think I'm athletic?" I question.

"Well, are you?"

"For your information, I was an honorary member of Jefferson's ultimate Frisbee team, but I didn't play, so no."

"If you didn't play, what did you do?"

"I got water and cheered them on and stuff," I explain. 

"Why?" he asks with a chuckle. 

"Well," I start, "my former crush was on the team, and I was desperate for their attention."

"That's relatable," Marty responds, laughing a little. 

Suddenly the announcements come on through the speaker overhead, and Marty looks up at where the sound is originating from. My eyes shift back over to the blonde boy, watching as he combs his hand through his hair, simultaneously drawing me back in. When his eyes wander over to mine, I quickly snap my gaze away, feeling my face heat up. I hope he didn't notice me staring. 

____________________________________

**Andi's POV**

 

In the afternoon, I decide I should probably figure out how the art room works, since I need to be starting my first project soon if I want to get it done by the suggested date on the unit tracking sheet for art. The tracking sheet for a course gives a list of all the assignments that need to be completed in order to finish that course. The suggested dates beside each unit aren't mandatory, but they should be met if one wants to stay on track with finishing high school in four years. 

The art room is on the first floor where most of the option course rooms are kept. As I approach the door, I catch a familiar face walking out.

"Hey," Walker says. 

"Walker," I respond. "I didn't know you went here." 

"And I didn't know you did," he says. "We need to talk more."

"Yeah, we should," I agree.

He smiles then tells me, "Well, I've gotta go get a textbook from the library, but I'll see you around."

"Yeah, definitely."

He nods and curves past me to walk down the hallway. I step through the door to enter the room I haven't been in yet. 

The space is filled with long tables of various heights. Cupboards, each labelled with tape, line the walls, and a sink covered in paint splatters sits at the back. One of the tables has a cover coated in dried clay, and it's located at the back by the kiln. The art teacher sits in her open-doored office on the left side of the room, but she doesn't bother to come out, since it looks like the few people in the room know what they're doing. 

My first project involves making a few sketches, so I start by going over to the cupboards to search for the drawer that might hold loose paper or art pencils of different hardnesses. I scan the drawers and doors as I walk by, not seeing what I need. 

Right when I'm about to give up and go back to work on my math, I hear a voice next to me, and I turn to see a girl with long blonde hair that curls at the ends. Under a jean jacket, her pastel pink dress has splotches of indigo paint by the waist. Other than that tiny uncleanliness, everything else about her is appearance seems perfectly designed with attention to each little detail, like the shimmer on her lips and the golden rings around the irises of her blue eyes.

"A little lost?" she asks. 

"Um . . ." I take another look at the cupboards again before saying, "Yes."

She reaches out in front of me, causing me to need to lean back while she pulls open the door labelled "paint palettes" by my head and takes out a sheet of blank paper from a stack at the back. She hold out the page for me to take, a clever smile on her face. 

"Not all of the cupboards are well-labelled," she explains. 

"Awesome," I say sarcastically, followed by a genuine, "Thanks."

"No problem."

As I take the paper from her hand, I notice a collection of pins on her jean jacket. One is for a band I've never heard of, with two others being for ones I do know: Panic! at the Disco and My Chemical Romance. The pin that catches my eye is the one that has a rainbow-toned equal sign on it. 

"I like your pins," I say. 

Amber glances down as though to check what they look like then responds, "Thanks."

"You like My Chemical Romance?" I ask. "So do I."

"Really?" she says with skepticism. "You don't seem like the kind of girl who would."

"What kind of girl would?"

She gives me a once-over with her eyes. "One who's less colourful."

"Says the girl in a pink dress," I say with a laugh. 

She chuckles a little, placing her palm on the counter under the cupboard to lean on it.

"Fair point," she responds. 

Then she gives me a grin as she says, "I should tell you: I have a personal rule that whenever I meet a pretty girl, I have to find out her name."

Her flirty smile makes me feel nervous all of a sudden, but I know I should correct her now before she gets her hopes up. 

"I'm Andi," I reply, "and I'm straight."

She lets her head fall to the side as she looks at me. 

"Damn," she says. "Excuse me for trying. You're an art kid, so I figured my chances were better."

That makes me laugh, and she does the same before finally introducing herself.

"I'm Amber."

"As in the colour?" 

"As in the gem, actually," she corrects. 

"Oh, wow," I say with a giggle. "I tad egotistic, but okay."

"Looks like you've pinned my personality fast," she jokes. 

When we finish laughing, she points to a cabinet on the left side of the room. 

"That's where the pencils are if you need them," she informs me. 

"I do need them, so thank you."

"No problem."

Her smile sucks me in for a moment, causing my eyes to follow along her shimmering lipgloss, to her black eyelashes, and down her golden locks. I'm pulled back into reality when she opens her mouth again to talk. 

"I'll let you work on your project," she says. 

"Yeah," I reply. "Yeah, uh, thanks."

She gives me one last smile before turning away to head back to where a canvas lays on a table next to several paint jars. 

As she picks up her brush, I keep my eyes on her, unintentionally memorizing her form. My sight wanders down her figure, but my breath stops for a moment when I notice her shoes and realize that she's the one person my mom warned me to stay away from. But, although I see her black Doc Marten combat boots, and they register in my mind as a sign that I shouldn't try to be friends with her, something else about her makes that warning in my head go silent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally going to be way longer, but I decided to split the writing into two chapters, so I have one more to write now, which will be up tomorrow. Thanks for reading. Sorry there's not much Tyrus yet. It'll be here soon. I promise. Thanks for reading! I love you all!


	3. Popular Kid Culture

**Amber's POV**

 

After leaving the art room, I make a beeline to my locker on the other side of the first floor. I whip the door open and squeeze the back of my pride pin down to unhook it from my jean jacket before tossing it into my locker. I had forgotten that it was on this jacket, but now that I remember, I can't leave it on. 

"What are you doing?" my friend, Iris asks as she walks up. 

"Taking my pride pin off," I answer. 

"Because of your brother? Amber, pretty much everyone in this school knows you're a lesbian."

"But TJ doesn't," I tell her, "and I'm not ready for him to find out. I have no idea how he'll react."

"Don't you think he'll hear about it from someone somehow?" 

I slam my locker shut and latch the lock back onto it, then I turn around to face Iris. 

"I'm hoping he doesn't." I let out a sigh. "Now that he goes here, I can't be so obvious about my sexuality."

"Amber, people literally refer to you as the blonde lesbian from the art room," Iris says. "He's going to find out."

"And I'm going to try to defer that for as long as I can," I respond. 

A cloud of chatter halts our conversation, and Iris turns around to watch as a group of freshmen boys walk around the corner of the hall. My brother is in that group, but he doesn't even give me a glance as him and his friends continue down the hallway. 

He's only been here a week, and he's already known by most of the school. It's always been that way. He's Mr. Popular, the boy girls swoon over, and I'm just me, the blonde lesbian from the art room. The interesting thing about Grant is that, although nobody really knows everyone's names, everybody does know everyone. We just all know of people's descriptions and what room they work in. Names are rarely ever learned unless you know someone personally.  

"Looks like he's making friends easily," Iris says. 

"Yeah," I respond. Then I step around her. "I'm going to go work more on art. I'll see you at lunch."

"Okay," Iris says as I disappear around the corner of the hall, heading in the opposite direction of my brother and his friends. 

____________________________________

**TJ's POV**

 

Thumps echo off the ceiling of the gymnasium as I dribble the basketball. The gym is empty, aside from me. I wanted to get some extra practice in before tryouts, so I figured I'd come here. I bounce the ball up to the net to do a layup, catching the ball as it rolls over the hoop, not making it in. 

I've missed every shot I've taken so far, because my busy mind keeps wandering back to school. The reason why my parents wanted me to come to this school was because of the academic support. There are people here who can help me do math even with my dyscalculia, which makes the subject a lot easier. The problem with that is my friends don't know about my learning disability, so I have to find subtle ways to dip out on whatever group stuff we're doing during the day. Today I told them I couldn't eat lunch because I had to go to a club thing. Lester almost caught my lie by asking what thing, but I was able to make one up. My friends now believe that my sister is in the knitting club and that she's forced me to come to her last two meetings. 

Don't get me wrong; I like my friends. They just expect me to be a certain way. I'm the former captain of the basketball team, and I love basketball, but I never realized the pressure that would come with that title. I need to be cool and slick and charming around girls. Most importantly, there should be nothing weird or broken about me, which scratches out my dyscalculia from the information I am able to share about myself to my friends. 

Frustrated at my failing basketball skills, I raise the ball to throw it again, but it misses the net. I try once more, but this time it doesn't even touch the rim. When the ball bounces back to me, the anger boiling beneath my skin becomes too much, and I swivel around, whipping the ball aggressively across the gym.

I freeze when I see a face I recognize from my TA standing in the doorway to the gym, right beside where the ball had just smacked the wall. When his concerned eyes hit mine, he quickly spins around and takes off. Without thinking, I rush over to the door to stop him.

When I finally get there, he's already gone, and there's no sight of him in the hallway. I don't know why I'm so disappointed. It's not like I know him. I don't even know his name. But I've noticed him looking at me a couple times now, and, every time, it makes me feel all twisty inside, but in a good way. I like thinking about him thinking about me. Why, though? I have no idea. 

______________________________________

**Amber's POV**

 

I open the door to my home and immediately see a note on the coffee table, addressed to me. It reads "Amber, you need to clean out your car before we get home tonight or we're doing it for you." I let out a groan. My parents know I don't like it when they snoop through my stuff. I've been putting off cleaning my car for weeks, but now I guess I have to do that if I don't want them to find the rainbow car ornament I keep in my glove box. I put it up after leaving the house and take it down before coming back home, because my parents can't know I have it. But, even though it's a hassle, there's something nice about the visual reminder that I'm okay. 

I figure I'll do it later and go up the stairs to my room. As I pass by my brother's room, I hear him talking to Reed and Lester, the friends he's had since elementary school. I've never been a huge fan of them, but why would that matter? It's not like TJ consults me before picking his friends. We're not even really that close. 

"She's that girl with the ponytail and the black and white Adidas runners," Lester explains through the wall.

"Dude," Reed's says, "that's, like, every girl we talk to. Be more specific."

"Redhead," Lester adds. 

"Oh, her," Reed responds. "She's hot."

I roll my eyes and continue toward my own room. If TJ and I were close, I would definitely tell him to drop those fuckboy friends of his, but we're not, so he wouldn't listen to me. We used to be close as kids, but ever since I started realizing my sexuality, I just haven't been able to talk to him the way I used to. Now it's like I need to avoid stepping on glass around him; if I let the wrong thing slip, he could find out more about me than I want him knowing. That prevents me from taking the chance of talking to him often. Besides, a lot of what I have to say ends up tying back to my sexuality, so it's not like I have much else to talk about anyway. 

After sitting on my bed, I take my phone out of my backpack and toss the bag onto the floor. Wanting to just get out of the house for a while, I open my messages to text the one friend whom I'm close enough to to randomly invite myself over to her house when I'm bored. 

 **Amber:** Can we hang out?

 **Iris:**  I'm sorry. I can't. I'm on a date with Libby.

 **Amber:** That's okay. I understand. 

 **Iris:**  Sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, though.

 **Amber:**  Yup. See you tomorrow.

Looks like I'm stuck alone for now. I guess that gives me time to clean out my car before my parents get home. I'm fine with anything that gets me away from my brother's irritating friends. 

_____________________________________

**Cyrus' POV**

 

The next morning, my eyes catch TJ's as he enters the room. I quickly turn away, not wanting him to notice me looking after he caught me watching him yesterday. I couldn't help it. I just saw him practicing basketball, and I was just drawn in. I don't even like basketball, but I guess I do like basketball when the person playing it is an attractive guy with floppy blonde hair and visible muscles in his arms. 

Surprisingly, that very character walks directly over to me rather than his regular spot, making me tense up as he leans against the desk next to me. 

"Hey," he says in a low, husky whisper that makes my pulse sharpen. 

"Hey," I respond, looking over at him. 

"So you saw my little freak-out in the gym yesterday," he says. "I was hoping we could keep that between us."

Being this close to him lets me see that his eyes, which I thought were blue, have more of a greenish tint. I almost get lost in them for a moment before I break myself out of it to respond to him. 

"People can't know that you get upset sometimes?" I ask, curious as to why he's so self-conscious about it. 

"I'm cool," he responds. "I'm too chill to get upset like that."

I nod, trying to clasp on to what he's saying. "Right. So you just don't have emotions. I didn't realize it was cool to be a robot."

He laughs faintly at my joke, but clearly has too much happening inside his head to let himself relax entirely. 

"Robots are way cool," he says. 

"Interesting. Clearly, I have an inadequate understanding of popular kid culture."

We both chuckle at that, and he turns his body more to face me. 

"I wouldn't say I'm popular," he says. 

"You don't have to know you're a popular kid to be a popular kid," I state.

"Then how do you know you're not a popular kid?"

"Have you heard of me before?" I counter. 

"No," he answers, accepting my point, "but I want to. What's your name?"

"Cyrus," I say.

"Well, Cyrus, I'm—"

"TJ. I know. You're a popular kid, remember?"

He smiles, laughing a little more as he brings his hand up to run through his hair. Somehow the action makes him appear ten times hotter than before. 

Right when I'm about to say something more, I'm interrupted by the sound of his blonde friend's voice, and TJ spins around, completely disregarding me to give his friend a fist bump. 

"TJ! What's up, man?" the boy says. 

I step away from the two friends, feeling out of place.

"Who's the kid?" TJ's friend asks, nodding in my direction with a confused face.

TJ briefly glances back at me before turning to his friend again, replying, "Nobody, man. Just someone in our TA."

 _Nobody._ I guess that's me. It's not like we're friends or anything.Even though I know it shouldn't hurt to hear that I'm nobody to a boy I just spoke to for the first time, the word still stings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, my poor baby Cyrus. Anyway. I wanted to take the Kippen Siblings in a different route than lots of the other fanfics do. Rather than having them already close, we're going to see them grow together throughout the story and get to know each other better. I made a storyboard for about nine chapters so far, so I'm excited for y'all to read what there is in store. Thanks and have a good day! I probably won't be able to update again today, but we'll see.


	4. Wanna Come?

**TJ's POV**

 

I walk alongside Reed, Lester, and Daniel and Ross, two guys who used to be on the middle school basketball team with me, around the third floor. We've made three laps already just to waste time talking. None of us really want to work right now. 

"TJ," Ross says, "I heard from Trina that Chloe wants you to ask her out."

"Yo, you should do it, man," Lester says. "Chloe is smokin'."

"Why doesn't she just ask me out?" I question. 

I don't particularly have any interest in Chloe, but I do wonder why the girls we hang around always do stuff like this. Why can't they just talk directly to us, rather than letting information get around through rumours? 

"That's not how it works, dude," Reed responds. 

As we pass by the library again, I glance over at the open door and notice a brown-haired boy standing between two bookcases. Seeing him causes me to stumble over my foot, and Reed turns around to figure out why I've fallen behind. 

"You good, man?" he asks. 

"Yeah, I, uh, just remembered I need to sign out a learning guide," I lie. 

"Okay, whatever," he says.

He shakes his head at my need to do work and continues walking around the corner with my other friends. As they disappear, I look over to Cyrus in his turquoise, button-up T-shirt and take a breath before stepping into the library. I slow to a halt by his side, and his head turns to me silently with a blank face.

"To Kill a Mockingbird," I say, observing the book he just took from the shelf. "Good choice."

"You've read it?" he responds, surprised. 

"Nope."

That makes him laugh, which results in him being shushed by the librarian from a distance. 

Cyrus shuts his mouth to wait a second before whispering, "You got me in trouble."

"Didn't realize I was such a bad influence," I joke. "Sorry."

"You should be," he responds, seriously at first, but then he breaks into a slight grin. "What are you here for?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm getting"—I pick up the first book my hand touches on the shelf—"Death of a Salesman. I'm, uh, getting a head start on my English."

"I see," Cyrus says with a nod. "Two grades head start?"

He's right. Death of a Salesman isn't something we read until grade eleven, but I didn't think about that when I picked it up. 

"Uh, yeah," I say, stuffing in back in the empty space on the shelf. 

Cyrus shakes his head, chuckling a little. I open my mouth to explain, but I quickly realize I don't have an explanation. I'm not sure why I feel the need to be around Cyrus like this. There's just something about him that pulls me in. I don't know where it came from, but I know it's there, and I have no idea how to get rid of it. 

"Changed your mind?" he says. 

"Yeah," I respond. "I just remembered I'm too dumb for grade eleven courses."

"You think you're dumb?" 

"Well, I'm not smart."

Cyrus takes a moment to look me down and up. "I don't believe that."

"Believe it," I retort. 

"I would," Cyrus starts, "but I don't succumb to peer pressure."

I sigh. "Then I'll just have to show you."

"That would mean you have to talk to me more," he points out. 

I smile, letting that sit for a moment before saying, "I'm cool with that."

Cyrus smiles back, his chin up in a playful yet confident way. "So am I."

______________________________________

**Andi's POV**

 

Buffy sits in front of me in the science room, with Cyrus and Jonah in the desks beside us. We all work quietly on our individual assignments, low murmurs sounding out around us. Voices from the science lab area carry over into the rows of desks, creating an overall chatter-friendly atmosphere, making it easy for me to tap Buffy on the shoulder and talk to her. 

"I'm going to get my history book," I tell her. "I'll be right back."

"Yeah. No problem," she responds with a smile. "I'll make sure you don't get cleared."

Getting cleared. That is another Grant thing. It refers to when the teachers remove the belongings from desks that have nobody sitting at them. Theoretically, if you leave your stuff on your desk unattended, it will get cleared, but that's not so common in practice. Almost everyone leaves their books on their desks when they get up to go to seminars, tests, or to lunch. Also, nobody steals things; it's ingrained in the culture. People leave their laptops, phones, and wallets on their desks, and they never get touched. 

"Thanks," I say before getting up.

I enter the hallway and start toward my locker, but the sight of a blonde girl in floral Doc Martens today catches my attention. She leans against a locker, noticing me as I approach. 

"Amber," I say. 

"Andi," she responds with a smile. 

The sound of my name in her voice gives me goosebumps, and I don't know why. There's just something peculiar about hearing her acknowledge my presence in such a specific way. 

"What are you doing?" I ask. 

"I'm waiting for my friend, Iris," she explains. "We're going for lunch."

"Lunch? But it's only 10:30," I respond. "Lunch isn't for another forty-five minutes."

"You know you don't actually have to follow that rule," she says, tilting her head. 

I raise my eyebrows in question. "So you're just leaving in the middle of the day? But it's prime time."

Prime time: how the teachers refer to any hours in the school day that aren't the hour and a half reserved for kids to choose their own half-hour lunch break within. 

"It's not a big deal," Amber insists. "We're coming back." She pauses for a moment before adding, "Wanna come?"

To anyone else I would say no. But she seems to have an effect on me that hinders my ability to deny any opportunity to spend time with her, even an opportunity I probably shouldn't take. Her blue eyes stare up at me from under her eyelashes, making my mind has go weak in an instant. 

"Yes," I say, sounding so sure of my answer that you wouldn't think I have a single doubt. Oddly enough, I don't have any doubts. My response just feels certain, like it's something I have to do to satisfy some subconscious request inside my head, like I just have to get to know this girl. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late, but I did it. I wrote another chapter. Now I have to go rinse out two shirts that I tie-dyed today. I'm a bit of a hippie, if y'all haven't figured out already. Anyway, have a good night. I love you guys a lot. I hope your day goes well tomorrow, and I hope none of y'all get sick. Bye!


	5. I Think You Dropped This

**Andi's POV**

 

"So where exactly are we going?" I ask.

Amber walks next to me, with her friend, Iris, on the other side of her. The two girls' hair is blown around by the wind as we walk down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. 

As we get farther and farther away from the school doors, the icky feeling in my stomach intensifies, but it's replaced entirely by butterflies when Amber puts her hand on my shoulder. While she talks, I find myself staring at the place where she's touching me, not sure why I'm so entranced by it. 

"Have you heard of The Spoon?" she wonders. 

Suddenly, I connect two dots, realizing there's a server there who looks a lot like Amber.

"Wait," I say. "Do you work there?"

"I do," she answers. "I assume you've been?"

She lets her arm fall back to her side, leaving me feeling bare, but it shouldn't matter. Why should it matter if she has her hand on my shoulder or not? 

"It's basically my second home," I say.

"Oh, sorry I don't remember you. I see a lot of people everyday." 

"That's okay," I respond. "I love the baby taters there."

"And Amber gets a discount," Iris cuts in.

"Awesome," I say. 

Amber reaches into her purse to grab her keys and unlock her car. It's a white Mini Cooper with a rainbow ornament dangling from the rearview mirror. Amber walks around to open the driver's side, and Iris goes for shotgun, but Amber stops her. 

"Andi gets the front," Amber tells her friend. 

Iris gives me a glance then says, "That's fair. She's new."

I feel a little bad about making Iris take the backseat, but I'm also relieved. It would've been uncomfortable sitting alone in the backseat of the car while Amber and Iris talked amongst themselves. 

I get buckled in, and Amber sparks the car to life with a twist of the key. She pulls out of the parking lot, and I watch out the window as the school drops from my sight. 

"So, Andi," Iris says from behind me, "are you a freshman?"

"Yup," I reply. "What about you?"

"We're in grade eleven," Iris answers. 

For some reason, that surprises me. I knew they were older than me, but I just figured it was only by a year, not two. 

"Wow, so am I, like, a baby to you guys?" I ask with a laugh. 

"Honestly," Amber begins, "nobody even pays attention to what grade people are in at Grant, because nobody has classes, so people just meet other people."

"Plus, lots of kids end up taking lower level courses later," Iris adds. "I did all my history courses in grade nine, because I wanted to put off everything else."

"In conclusion, you're fine," Amber summarizes. "Perfect, actually."

Iris goes into a coughing fit in the backseat, slipping in the word, "Gay," between hacking. 

Amber goes red in an instant and immediately defends herself, saying, "It is not. Also, Andi's straight."

I think I had forgotten that somehow, and hearing that fact catches me off guard. _I am straight._  I turn my head to look out the window, trying not to focus on Amber, but my eyes keep flicking back to her. 

"Yeah, whatever," Iris responds. 

We drive for a few more minutes before pulling into the parking lot behind The Spoon. After coming to a stop, the three of us hop out of the vehicle and walk around to the front of the diner. 

"Did I lock the car?" Amber asks as she pulls the door open. 

"Yes," Iris replies, "six times."

"Just making sure."

I follow the girls over to a table and sit down across from them, although I kind of wish I could trade seats with Iris so that I could be beside Amber. 

"Do you know what you want?" Amber asks me.

"Of course," I reply. "I come here all the time with my friends."

"Are your friends like you?" Amber wonders. 

"Sort of, but not really. We all do like baby taters, though."

"They have good taste," Amber says with a giggle. "Iris meets me here a lot to eat after I get off my shifts, but she's often busy with her girlfriend nowadays."

Iris rolls her eyes. "I can kiss and cuddle with Libby, and you just ask me for gas money. Amber, I love you, but . . ." she trails off into laughter, and Amber laughs along too. 

"It's fine," Amber says. "I get it. I just need more friends to hang out with. Until then, I'll just be stuck having a Narnia movie marathon alone."

Before I can stop myself, I hear my voice say, "I'm free most of the time."

I shouldn't have said that. Bex wouldn't like Amber, so I can't bring her to my house. 

"Okay," Amber responds. "Do you wanna do something on Thursday? "

"Uh, yeah." I pause to come up with an excuse to keep her away from my house. "But my cat is throwing up, so we probably shouldn't go near my house."

"We can go to mine if you want," Amber suggests. 

"Good idea," I say, making an awful attempt at sounding unsuspicious. "That'd be great." 

_______________________________________

**Cyrus' POV**

 

Buffy, Jonah and I wait in the line for our school's cafeteria. The line is always longest at 11:15 when lunch is just beginning, but we put up with it anyway, because Buffy has a seminar to go to at 11:45 and won't be able to eat later. While we wait against the wall to get up to the front of the line, Buffy checks her phone. 

"Did Andi text you?" Jonah wonders. 

Buffy shakes her head. "I don't know where she is."

"Maybe she's writing a test," I suggest. 

"Does anyone actually write tests on the second week of school?" Buffy questions.

"Andi's a hard worker," I reason. "It's possible."

"I guess," Buffy responds. "It's just weird that she didn't tell any of us. She said she was just going to the washroom."

"I'm sure everything's fine," Jonah says. "Maybe she went down to work on art again."

"Yeah, maybe," Buffy says. "She probably just lost track of time, or she could be working through lunch. I'll go down before my seminar to check on her."

I recognize who the boy in front of her in line is when he turns around and holds out a piece of paper. 

"I think you dropped this," Marty says.

Buffy takes the piece of paper and looks at it. 

"Is this your phone number?" she questions frankly. 

Marty grins as he extends his hand. "I'm Marty, and you are?"

"Buffy," she replies, taking his hand to shake it. 

All of a sudden, I catch movement in the corner of my eye and spin around to see Andi stepping up to us in line. She smiles wide as though trying way too hard to act natural. While Buffy is caught up in her conversation with Marty, Jonah and I interrogate Andi. 

"Where have you been?" Jonah asks. 

"I was, uh, in a seminar," Andi replies. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" I question. 

"I remembered it last minute," she says. 

Jonah and I share a glance. It's clear that neither of us believe her, but we let it go anyway. 

______________________________________

While Jonah and I walk the halls, he talks about his partner for his first science lab. 

"He's really cool, and he doesn't just copy off me, so that's nice," Jonah explains. "What about you?"

"What about me, what?" I respond. 

"Have you met anyone interesting yet?" 

A grin spreads over my face as I think about the boy I actually did meet. 

"Wait, really?" he says. "I thought you'd just say no again. Who is he?"

"His name is TJ," I say. "He's in my TA, he's into basketball, and he's really nice."

"He's a jock?" 

"I guess so, yeah."

As we come around a corner, I spot TJ talking with his friends by some lockers. 

"That's him," I whisper to Jonah. 

TJ's eyes catch mine, and I give him a wave, but he doesn't wave back, nor does he even smile. He simply breaks our eye contact and turns back to his friends, simultaneously breaking my heart. I stop moving, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get away from here as soon as possible. 

"Oof," Jonah mumbles. "I'm sorry, Cy."

"No, it's fine," I respond. 

Mortified, I take a step backward and spin around. I think I catch a glimpse of TJ looking over at me again, but I start walking away immediately, not giving myself time to analyze his expression. I only talked to him for the first time yesterday. I shouldn't be this upset. 

"Hey," Jonah says, trying to sound positive, "there are plenty of fish in the sea."

"Yes," I agree, trying to convince myself of that as well. "He's just some random guy. It's no big deal."

_It's no big deal. It's not. I mean, it shouldn't be. So why does it feel like it is?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola. Here's a chapter for y'alls. I probably won't have another one today, but I'm going to have one for tomorrow most likely. I love you all! Thanks for reading! Comment, because I love reading the comments. Bye!


	6. All We're Doing Is Talking

  
**TJ's POV**

 

I watch as Cyrus walks away, and I instantly feel disappointed in myself.  _Why can't I just talk to him? Why am I so scared to let my friends know that I like him? I mean I like having him as a friend, not as more. I think._

"Dude, you okay?" Lester asks, looking behind him to try to find where my eyes are set, but Cyrus is already gone.

"Yeah, I'm . . . fine."

I turn my eyes back to my friends, but my mind is still on the hurt look on Cyrus' face.  _All he did was say hi, and I ignored him. Why am I so attached to this? Why can't I let it go? He's just another guy who wants to be my friend._ But for some reason, I want to be his friend more than I've ever wanted to be anyone else's. 

"TJ," Lester says, getting my attention after I space out again. 

"Yeah?" 

"I said are you going out with Chloe Friday?"

"Uh, yeah," I reply.

I am. Enough pressure from my friends convinced me to ask her out, but I'm starting to regret that decision.  _Why am I regretting this? I don't have anyone better to spend Friday night with. Right?_  Something about it just doesn't feel right. Maybe that's just nerves. It must be—though I've never felt nervous about a date before. 

I need to talk to Cyrus—fix things. I need to make sure he knows that I didn't mean to hurt him. 

_____________________________________

**Cyrus' POV**

 

My friends work around me in science, and I try to do the same, but every time I look back at the pages of To Kill a Mockingbird, my mind sends me off into an endless dive into thought. 

"Are you thinking about TJ?" Andi asks, noticing my inability to focus. 

"No," I reply. "Definitely not."

Andi gives me a distrusting look, and I sigh. 

"Okay, maybe a little," I admit. "I hardly knew him. I should be able to get over this."

"Give yourself a little time," Andi tells me. "I'm sure you'll forget about him by tomorrow." Then her eyes latch onto something behind me. "Or not."

I turn around in my desk to see TJ standing with a sad expression, looking right at me. 

"Hey, Cyrus," he says. "Can I talk to you?"

"Really?" I respond, a tad shocked. "You completely ignored me earlier."

"I know. I just—let me explain."

His sorry eyes burn into me, tugging at my heartstrings. I glance around at my friends, all who are scowling at the boy who hurt me, Buffy especially. 

"Fine," I finally say. 

I get up to follow TJ out into the hall, brushing off the disapproving looks from my friends. When we're away from the doors, TJ runs his hand through his hair again, keeping his eyes on the floor until he speaks and locks them onto mine. 

"I'm sorry about earlier," he says. 

"Okay," I respond, "but why couldn't you at least acknowledge me in some way? If you don't want to be my friend, that's okay. I just need you to tell me."

"I want to be your—your friend," he assures me as soon as I finish speaking. "It's just that my friends are pretty, well, obnoxious, and they think everyone we associate with needs to be cool—"

"You don't think I'm cool?" I question. 

"No, I—"

My laughter cuts him off, and he relaxes a bit. 

"I know I'm not cool," I say. "I don't care."

"Good," he responds.

"But I don't like being ignored."

"I know, and I don't like ignoring you," he says, "but if my friends know about you, they're going to be mean about it. I know it."

"All we're doing is talking," I debate. "Why would they care?"

My question causes him to pause for a second to think about that.  _Because he wants more than just talking._  At least, that's what I hope he's thinking. 

"Yeah, I guess," TJ finally responds, combing his fingers through his hair again. He really needs to stop doing that, because it makes me want to pull him down to me and kiss him, which isn't something I can do if I want my actions to remain socially acceptable. 

"They're just weird," TJ goes on. "I don't want them to start bothering you or anything."

"I see," I say. "So I can only talk to you when you're not with your friends? Then I expect you to be walking around alone a lot more often."

"I will," he responds, not taking any time to think about it. 

"I was kidding," I say. 

"Oh." He flips his serious into a smile. "Yeah, of course."

I let out a small chuckle at his awkwardness. I think I might actually have a chance with this boy. I know Marty said TJ doesn't talk to anyone who's not a jock, but he's talking to me. That has to mean something. 

"I'll see you later, then?" I ask. 

"Yeah, for sure."

I give him one last smile before turning to go back into science, preparing myself for the series of questions I'm going to receive when my friends see the grin stuck on my face.

_____________________________________

**Andi's POV**

 

My friends and I all chat while we walk around the first floor. We're all basically tired of working today, so we wanted to take a few minutes just to let our minds rest. 

"Hey, do you guy wanna go to The Spoon after school?" Buffy asks us. 

"Yeah, sure," Jonah replies. 

Cyrus also nods in agreement, which leaves me trying to come up with a reason to say no that doesn't involve me hanging out with Amber. 

"I can't," I say. "I have, uh, homework to do."

"You can literally do that anytime," Buffy reasons. "Do it tomorrow."

"It's seminar work," I counter. "I really need to get it done before the seminar tomorrow morning."

"Fine," Buffy responds with a sigh. 

We approach the corner of the hall where the door to the dance studio is. While my friends continue on past it, my focus is caught by the sight of a blonde girl doing fouette turns in front of the mirror. 

"Hey, I'm gonna, um, go to the washroom," I tell my friends. "I'll meet you guys up in science after."

"Okay," Cyrus responds. 

"See you," Buffy says. 

I slowly take a few steps toward the washroom, but, as soon as my friends have disappeared around the corner, I scurry back to the dance room. I can still see Amber doing her turns through the glass window in the door. Her ponytail whips around in circles as she spins, as does her loose tank top, but her Lululemon shorts are snug to her body, allowing her the flexibility to do a fan kick after a spin.

I carefully open the door, hearing the music of a song I don't recognize booming over a small speaker. Right as she's about to start another move, her eyes spot my reflection in the mirror and she whips around, rushing over to press pause on her phone. Then she walks up to me.

"Hey," she says in the now silent room. 

"Hi," I respond. "Sorry, am I intruding?"

"No, no, never," she replies. "I'm just working on a routine for dance."

"Is that schoolwork?" I ask. 

"Well, I get P.E. credits for doing dance after school, so sort of. Honestly, I just got bored, so I'm procrastinating my schoolwork now."

I chuckle, saying, "As long as you don't do that all year."

She puts a hand on her hip, tilting her head as she looks at me.

"Way to ruin my plans," she says with a laugh.

The loose strands of her hair fall in front of her face, keeping me from being able to see her ocean blue eyes. As if automatically, I find myself reaching up to brush the pieces out of her face and behind her ear. She watches my hand move out of the corner of her eye as it grazes her skin, a confused smile forming on her face. I quickly pull my hand away after I realize how odd this is, stepping back a bit to leave a bit more space between us. 

"Sorry," I say. 

"It's okay," she responds. "I don't mind."

She smiles at me, and I feel my heartbeat pick up in tempo. I'm not sure why I feel so nervous around her all of a sudden.

Eager to get me out of the headlights of this conversation, I ask, "Can I see the routine?"

Amber nods and walks back over to start the music back up again. This time, I do recognize the song: "Ruin My Life" by Zara Larsson. I sit down cross legged on the floor and lean against the mirror wall as she begins finds her place in the centre of the room. 

The dance begins with her lying on her side, a position which is soon demolished when she rolls across the floor and goes into the splits, eventually rising onto her feet. Watching her move doesn't do anything to help my pulse settle down. Actually, it does the opposite. Every time she kicks her leg or flips her hair, the speed doubles. About halfway through the routine, I'm convinced I'm going to die from how fast my heart is beating and how much I'm sweating.  _Since when am I this nervous around anyone? All I'm doing is watching a girl do a contemporary dance, observing her twirls and leaps. Sure, I may be seeing a little too much of her midriff as she bends over and flips upside down, but that's never affected me this way before. Is this normal? Do all straight girls look at other girls this way?_

She finishes her routine with her stare latched onto mine, and I feel a tingle flow down my spine and extend throughout my limbs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's a chapter. I'm beginning to fall in love with this story. I hope y'all are too. Love you! Bye! Also, try to listen to the song when it comes on in the story, because it helps the scene.


	7. That Way

**Amber's POV**

 

"Why are you taking that down?" Andi asks. 

I reach across her to stuff the rainbow ornament inside the glove box of my car. We're parked against the curb by my house. My parents aren't home yet, but they will be, and I can't let them see the rainbow.

"My parents," I respond.

"They don't know about you?"

I shake my head. "Nope."

"Do you think they wouldn't be okay with it?"

I sit back, considering it for a second before replying, "I don't know. I'd rather not take the chance."

Andi nods and closes the glovebox with the gentleness one would need to pet a butterfly. She looks back up to me after and smiles. I chuckle a little at her care in handling my car as I exit the vehicle, slamming the door behind me to make sure it's tight. Andi comes around to meet me and walk up to my house. 

I open the door to let us in, and I leave my shoes on the mat. Andi gazes around at the small living room which becomes the kitchen and dining room at the back. Overall, my house is pretty small compared to my other friends' places, but it's all I need. I spend most of my time in my room anyway. 

The unique features of my home include the paintings and artwork covering the walls from floor to ceiling in every available spot. They vary in size, but they're all colourful abstract pieces. To compliment them, green plants grow from pots in every corner and on every table or shelf. 

"Woah," Andi reacts. "This reminds me of the green house from Harry Potter."

"You're the first person to make that connection," I say with a laugh. "My parents like making art when they're not working."

"Is any of it yours?" Andi asks. "You paint too, don't you?"

I step into the room with her, watching as she inspects every inch of the walls. 

"I do," I say, "but I keep most of my art in my room."

She looks back to me, eyes wide. "You have to show me."

I smile and wave for her to follow me. I lead her up the stairs and down the hall to my open door. my pale yellow walls are far less full than the main floor's are, but there are still several pictures hung up. 

"You're a really good artist," Andi says. 

"Thanks."

She goes over to sit down on my bed while looking around at the rest of the room. I take a seat beside her, keeping a respectful distance away, so I'm surprised when she shifts closer to me. I turn my focus to our touching knees and shoulders, confused by her action, but she stays starting out at the walls. 

"I like that one," she says, pointing ahead at a self-portrait I did when I was 15. 

"Thanks," I respond. "I didn't like the way my eyes turned out. I think they're a little lopsided."

"Let me compare."

She looks over at me after examining the painting. It's as though her eyes get stuck for a second before she glances back at the painting again. 

"I think it's perfect," she says eventually. 

As she continues looking at my paintings, complimenting the parts she likes, she lets her head fall on my shoulder, and I'm not sure how to react. She makes more comments, but I can hardly hear them over my brain telling me not to try anything; this girl is straight. It's almost agonizing having a pretty girl leaning on me and not being able to kiss her, but this is just something girls do, I guess. I kind of hate how straight girls can get really close platonically, yet my gay mind overloads with anticipation when I even touch a girl's hand by accident. 

_______________________________________

**Andi's POV**

 

When I get home that night, I walk in to see Bex and Bowie sitting across from each other on the couch. My dad holds my mom's foot while they read their own books. 

"Hey," I say as I close the door behind me and walk over to stand by them. "What are you doing?" 

"Just reading," Bex responds. "How was hanging out with friends?"

"It was good," I reply. 

"Are they liking high school so far?" my mom wonders. 

I hesitate for a moment, considering whether or not I should mention that I wasn't with Buffy, Cyrus and Jonah. I don't want to lie to my parents, and I guess just telling them about Amber wouldn't hurt anything. They just can't meet her. 

"Actually, I was with a different friend," I say. 

"Oh, who?" 

"Her name's Amber."

"Amber, huh?" Bowie says. "Is she from school?" 

I nod. "She is. She's really into art and dance and stuff." I purposefully leave out the part about how she does those things to put off doing her schoolwork. 

"That's great that you're making friends," Bex says. "Have you met anyone else? Any boys?"

"Uh, well, I've met a few other friends, but no boys," I reply. 

"Good," my dad responds. "Teenage boys are gross. Stay away from them."

He chuckles as Bex gives him a light kick to the shoulder as a result of his comment. 

"So you haven't met anyone who makes you feel  _that way?"_  Bex wonders. 

"That way?" I repeat, suddenly curious for more information. 

I already know what way, but I think I just want a reminder, because I've been feeling a little off-balance lately, mostly around Amber, and I think I need someone to tell me again what  _that way_  feels like to reminds myself that whatever I feel with Amber is totally normal and I shouldn't worry.

"You know," she says. "Someone who steals your focus, makes your heart race. You want to be close to him, and it feels like you're floating whenever he says your name."

_Shit._

"That's  _that way?"_  I double check, hoping she'll change her mind and say no. 

"Yeah."

_Shit._

Suddenly feeling unsteady, I take a step backward, saying, "I just remembered I've gotta take a shower tonight, and it's getting late, so I'm gonna go do that."

"Okay," Bex responds with a nod.

I hurry out of the room and toward my own bedroom. I fall back on the bed as I try to untangle the mess of thoughts running through my head. Everything my mom said about liking a person  _that way_  is how I feel around Amber. But is that even possible? Could I have a crush on Amber? 

My question is answered by the butterflies that rise in my chest when I hear my phone ding and pull it out to see a text from the girl herself. 

 **Amber:**  Next time, Harry Potter marathon?

My pulse speeds up as I type my response.

 **Andi:**  Sounds great! I'll bring the snacks. 

While I watch the bubble on the screen which lets me know that she's typing, I find myself unable to hold back a smile. 

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Tyrus in this chapter. Sorry. The next chapter will be heavy on Tyrus, though, as well as the one after that I believe, so yeah. Thank you for reading! I love you all!


	8. I Still Don't Believe It

**TJ's POV**

 

"Yo!" comes Reed's voice. 

I lower my hands, which were about to throw the basketball toward the net, and walk over to where he stands beside Lester in the doorway to the empty gymnasium.

"Hey," I say. 

"What's up?" Lester wonders. 

"Just getting some more practice in before tryouts next week," I reply. 

"Cool," Lester responds. "So you're just gonna hang out here all morning?"

"As long as I don't get kicked out by the P.E. teachers."

"Yo, I'll let Chloe know you're here," Reed mentions. "I bet she'd want to watch for a bit." He gives me a wink. 

"Okay," I say with a shrug. 

"Cool," Lester says. "Well, we'll see you later."

"Yup," I respond. 

They disappear out of the doorway, and I walk back across the gym to the basketball hoop on the far wall. I take another few shots for the net, getting two out of three in. On the fourth, My aim gets warped by the soft voice coming from the closer set of gym doors on my left. While the ball misses the net by several feet, I turn to smile at the face entering the gym. 

"Hi," Cyrus says. 

"You didn't run away this time," I respond, referencing that last time he found me here. 

His cheeks turn pink as he smiles, saying, "No. But if you want me to run away, I still can . . ." 

"Uh, how about don't do that?" I offer, which makes him giggle. 

I walk over to pick up the ball from where it rolled past me. Cyrus watches as I toss it from half-court, making the ball in without even touching the rim. It bounces back over to me, and I catch it as I make my way back over to the boy. 

"Impressive," Cyrus says. "My friend, Buffy can do that."

"Sure," I respond, "but does she look as good as me doing it?"

My smug smile causes him to grin. 

"Didn't think so," I say. 

I launch the ball up again, making another successful throw. 

"I wish I could do that," he says, "but I'm awful at all sports."

"I could show you?" I suggest. 

He smiles and walks over to me. I give him the ball and he holds it up, his elbows sticking outward on both sides. 

"Not like that," I say. "You only use one hand to throw. The other is just support."

I reach one hand up to adjust his position, but, the instant my hand touches his, I don't want to let go. His eyes watch as I alter the way his right hand is holding the ball. Not quite ready to let go, I step behind him to put my left hand on his as well, feeling the warmth of his body up against mine as I try not to lose my focus, but it's difficult when there's this feeling like a rolling tidal wave inside of me. It ripples through my nerves, making me feel as though I'm on the brink of something amazing, but I don't know what. I just know that I can't let this boy go or else this rush will fall back out to sea. 

"And then," I say softly, "just throw like this."

Together, we toss the ball, my hands guiding his. The ball swooshes into the net, and Cyrus turns to me with a smile. The tidal wave to retreats as he spins out of my arms, and I feel disappointed, because I liked having him there. 

"Niceberg," I say in response to his accomplishment. 

"I think I'm a jock now," Cyrus says with a laugh. "I made a basket."

"Can't argue with that," I reply, chuckling. 

I walk over to pick up the ball then come back to Cyrus to give it to him again. 

"Let's see if you can get two in a row," I say. 

He raises the ball, and I wrap my arms back around him to assist in his throw, but he glances back at me. 

"TJ," he says, "I think I've got the hang of it."

"You sure?" I ask, lowering my arms. 

I'd rather he let me keep him close to me. The feeling it gives me is one I've never experienced before, and now I can't help but notice the pull I have toward him like a magnet. I just want to have him in my arms again. 

"You don't think I'm capable of doing it on my own?" he questions, turning to face me, a fire in his voice. 

"That's not what I said," I defend. 

"You just think I need your help?" 

"I think," I start trying to explain myself without explaining too much, "you're really cute, and it makes me forget sometimes that you don't need me."

Cyrus seems stunned by my response, and I try to figure out in my head if I worded that properly.  _Maybe I shouldn't have called him cute._

"Well, I don't need you," he responds, "but I could want you."

His eyes stay on me, waiting for me to say something, but before I can, I hear the voices of my basketball friends chatting out in the hall, and I glance behind me to see them passing by, not yet noticing me. 

"Are those your friends?" Cyrus asks. 

"Uh, yeah," I answer. 

Cyrus places the basketball in my hands before stepping backward. 

"I'll talk to you later," he says.

He walks over to the doors and leaves right as my friends spot me and start calling my name. I know I said I didn't want him to talk to me when my friends were around, but I just wish my friends wouldn't be around so that he could stay. 

______________________________________

**Cyrus' POV**

 

Marty decided to join my friends and I at our table in the cafeteria for lunch. He sits next to Buffy, whom he's told me much about. According to him, they have a sort of thing going on, but neither of them have defined it yet. 

"Are you gonna finish that?" Buffy asks, pointing to Marty's whole cookie on his plate.

Marty picks it up and holds it out for her to take. 

"Go for it," he says. 

Buffy smiles and accepts the offer, taking a big bite out of the baked good. 

"So how are things with that boy you like?" Buffy asks me. 

"Pretty okay," I reply. "He showed me how to shoot a basketball this morning."

"Wait," Jonah says. "Hasn't Buffy offered, like, a million of times to teach you how to play, and you always said no?"

"Yes," I respond, "but she's not an attractive boy." I look to her. "No offence." 

"None taken," she says with a laugh.

"Good," I say. Then I let out a sigh. "What do I do now?"

"What do you mean?" Andi asks. 

"Like, I've never had a boy like me back before, and I think he might."

"Who are we talking about?" Marty cuts in. 

I pause for a second, deciding whether or not to tell Marty about TJ, since we are all in the same TA together. 

Eventually, I answer, "TJ."

"TJ? He's straight," Marty tells me. 

"Are you sure?" I say. "Cause, he doesn't really seem very straight when he talks to me."

"I'm sure," Marty replies. "Besides, he's going out with some girl, Chloe, tonight."

I ponder over that for a moment. He could just be bi or pan—or unsure; that's possibility. I thought we had a moment when we were in the gym together this morning. And he called me cute. In all my 14 years of experience on this planet, that's not something I've known straight guys to do.

"I still don't believe it," I state. 

Marty shrugs. "Whatever. I've got to go now anyway."

"What? Where?" Buffy asks as Marty gets up out of his seat. 

"I've got GSA club," he answers. 

"You're in that?" Jonah says, surprised. 

"I run it," Marty responds. 

"Wait," Andi stops him, "so are you an ally or . . .?"

"I'm trans," Marty corrects her. 

"Oh," Buffy responds, "cool."

"Yeah, so I'll see you later," Marty says. 

"See you," Buffy replies. 

Marty takes his garbage from his lunch with him as he leaves, and Buffy goes back to picking away at her food. She seems unfazed by the news she just heard, which, really, shouldn't change anything anyway.

"Did you already know that?" Jonah wonders. 

"No," she replies, "but it doesn't matter. I'm still into him."

"That's good," I say.

I feel proud of Buffy for her reaction to information that often makes other teens, less accepting ones, feel uncomfortable. I'm proud of all my friends, though. I love to take any opportunity I can to let people know that these three fantastic humans are my best friends, because I couldn't ask for anyone better than them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this. Sorry it was a day late. I was working, so I was tired, and now I'm posting finally, so here it is! Thanks for reading! I really appreciate everyone that's been voting and commenting so far. I can't wait for y'all to read what I have in store for you! Bye!


	9. Pink

**TJ's POV**

 

I browse through my closet, undecided between two hoodies. They will both be fine for tonight, but I feel a lot of pressure to make this date go well, so it takes me longer to choose than normal. Finally, I settle on the burgundy one and throw it on. 

Right as I finish doing that, I hear my phone beep and walk over to my dresser to check it.

 **Chloe:**  Hey, I don't want to go out anymore. 

The text takes me by surprise, and I try to figure out when I did something to her that would result in her not wanting to see me, but I can't come up with a single instance. I don't even think I've spoken to her all day.

 **TJ:**  Okay, but why?

 **Chloe:** I didn't realize you already have a boyfriend. Sorry if you felt like you had to ask me or something.

 _Where did she get the idea that I have a boyfriend?_ Everything about the message fails to be clearly decoded in my head, leaving me in bewilderment. 

 **TJ:**  I don't have a boyfriend. Who told you that?

 **Chloe:**  Nobody. I saw you with that boy in the gym this morning. You looked closer than normal.

I think back to helping Cyrus play basketball and recall having my arms around him. That would look odd to an outsider, but I didn't realize anyone was watching. 

 **TJ:**  That was nothing. I was just showing him how to make a basket. 

 **Chloe:** Yeah, okay, whatever. 

 **Chloe:**  I hope things work out with him. 

 **TJ:** There's nothing with him. 

She reads it, but gives no response. 

I plop down on my bed, trying to figure out the thoughts blowing around aimlessly in my mind like pieces of confetti. I can't seem to catch any to get a clear picture, but the fact that I'm not exactly disappointed about this girl cancelling on me is too obvious to not notice. 

As the gears in my head turn, I catch the sound of my sister's voice through the wall. It sounds like she's talking to someone, but I didn't hear anyone come in, so I assume she must be video-chatting. Maybe Amber can help me. I've never really talked to her about personal stuff like this before, but I'm just not sure I can understand what I'm feeling on my own, and I'm pretty sure my friends wouldn't be able to help me with this.

I step up to her open doorway but pause when I see her laughing with whomever is on the other end of the call. I figure I shouldn't interrupt and start to turn away, but her voice stops me.

"TJ?"

I shift back into the doorway.

"Why were you standing there?" Amber asks. 

"I, um . . . Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, sure," Amber replies, then she looks back to her phone screen. "Hey, Iris, I'll talk to you later," she says before tapping the screen to end the call. 

She looks back up to me as she sits her phone down on her desk next to the watercolour painting she's working on. She spins her chair around to face me as I step into the room and over to sit down on her bed. 

"What's going on?" Amber asks. 

"So I had a date with this girl tonight," I explain, "but she just texted me and bailed."

"Oh, that sucks," Amber responds. 

"That's the thing. It doesn't. I'm not upset. Like, I don't feel anything for her, but I should."

"Then she might not be the right girl for you," Amber suggests. 

"No, I mean, like—" I pause, trying to untangle the thoughts in my head and transform them into words I can speak "—I feel nothing. I always feel nothing."

Amber's brows furrow in confusion.

"Never mind," I say. "Forget it."

I stand up and start toward her door.

"TJ," Amber says. "You can tell me."

"No," I respond. "It's okay. Thanks."

I continue out of her room and walk back to my own. I want to tell her, but I don't know how to explain it. I just never saw Chloe as more than any other girl in the world. And I never saw any other girl as more than just another person.  

_______________________________________

**Cyrus' POV**

 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Cy Guy," Jonah says.

Jonah passes by my locker as I close it, and I wave to him.

"Have a good night, J. B.," I tell him. 

Jonah turns around the corner toward the stairs. I strap my bag over my shoulder and start off to go outside to meet up with Buffy and Andi. 

As I make my way down the hall, I pass the cooking room. I catch a glimpse of blonde through the open door and step over to get a better look. The space is empty aside from the one boy working away at the back, by the ovens. I enter in and carefully close the door behind me. After setting my bag down on a desk, I walk over to stand next to TJ as he whisks a bowl of batter. 

"Staying late?" I say. 

TJ startles and turns in my direction, smiling when he sees that it's me. Immediately after, he turns red and sets the bowl down on the counter. 

He stutters as he tries to explain, "I, uh, I—"

"You're in cooking class?" I ask. 

"Yeah," he admits. "I needed to take an option course other than P.E., and I figured this could be easy. I was wrong," he says with a light, nervous chuckle. 

I nod and peek over into the bowl on the counter. 

"What are you making?" I ask. 

"Uh, Cupcakes," he replies. "I'm kinda behind on this course, so the teacher said I could stay after school to finish this assignment."

"Hmm. Any chance you could make an extra one for me?" 

I give him a grin, and he laughs a little, picking up the bowl again. 

"Only if you help me out," he says. 

"Of course."

"Awesome. Can you grab the pan and bring it over here?"

I do as he asks, and he begins dropping blobs of cake batter into each cup in the pan. While I watch him, my mind wanders back to what I've been thinking about all weekend since I found out about it on Friday.

"How was your date with Chloe?" I ask.

TJ hesitates before answering, "Um, it didn't happen."

He keeps his eyes from meeting mine, which are looking straight at him.  _He didn't go out with her. Does this mean I have a chance? Could he like me?_

"May I ask why?"

He shrugs and continues filling the cupcake pan. 

"It's not important," he says.

Once the pan is filled, TJ pulls open the oven, letting heat escape into the room as he shoves the pan in. When its closed, he sets the timer and turns to me. 

"I think that's it," he says. 

"What about icing?" I wonder. 

"That's right," he remembers. "I forgot about that part. Any ideas on decorating?"

"Whatever we do, it has to be really snazzy," I say. 

"A snazzy cake?"

"Yup."

"Okay, well, I think there's some pre-made icing in that cabinet over there. There's food dye there too, so you can pick the colour."

I smile, and he turns around to go get a bowl for the icing. I go over to the cabinet he mentioned and find containers of grocery store icing, along with a tray of at least twenty different colours of food dye. My eye goes to the bright pink, and I open the seal on one of the icing containers to put in a few drops. TJ spins back around to me right as I finish stirring the colour in.

He raises his eyebrows, saying, "You did not just put pink in there."

"What's wrong with pink?" I challenge, stepping up to him. "Pink is one manly-ass colour."

That makes TJ smile, but he still says, "Would you want people to see you with a pink cooking project?"

"Absolutely," I state. "Pink is a fantastic colour. I'd make anything pink. In fact . . ."

I reach two fingers into the pink icing and bring them up to my cheek. TJ watches with a smile as I streak pink icing warpaint on both sides of my face. 

"I stand corrected," he says. "Pink is a good colour, especially on you."

"I'm glad you feel that way," I respond. 

Then I dip my fingers back into the icing and step up to TJ. He smiles and gazes down at me as I stripe both his cheeks with the pink. 

"There," I say as I reach for a piece of paper towel to wipe my fingers with. "Now no one can tell how much you're blushing right now."

That makes his face go even redder, which makes me giggle. 

"You're evil, you know that?" TJ says with an unmovable grin. 

"And yet you still like me," I utter. 

My heart pounds against my ribs as his eyes study my face. It feels like my heart is trying to break out so that it can find TJ's, and I wonder if his is trying to do the same to get to mine. For a moment, I think he's about to kiss me, but all of a sudden, he changes his course and steps back.

"Um," he mumbles, "I'll grab the sprinkles. What colour do you want?"

"Rainbow," I reply. 

He freezes in his tracks to take that in, but he doesn't glance back at me. My choice is no coincidence, obviously. I get that he might need time to sort through whatever he's feeling, but I'd sure like to speed up this process, because I'm all but one hundred percent convinced he feels something for me too. 

"Okay," he finally responds, and he opens up the cupboard to search for the correct decorations.

________________________________________

**TJ's POV**

 

The butterflies are still fluttering around when I enter my house, letting myself fall back against the door as I close it, feeling as though I might float away at any second. I don't know what it is about him; Cyrus just makes me smile, and now I don't think I'll be able to stop. 

I head upstairs and start toward my bedroom, but, on the way, I walk past the washroom, and my reflection in the mirror catches my attention. I drop my backpack onto the carpet before getting closer to the glass, examining the remnants of pink dye left on my cheeks. It must not have all come off when I wiped my face before leaving the school. 

I hurry to grab a cloth from the closet across the hall and go back to the washroom to rinse it under hot water. Beginning to scrub at my skin, I try to get the pink to go away. I expect it to come right off, but I guess food dye is harder to get off than I thought. 

After several minutes of rubbing, my skin starts to turn red, and my eyes well up. I can't go to school and let my friends see the pink on my face. I already lied to them about why Chloe cancelled our date. I don't want to have to lie again about why I have pink warpaint marks on my cheeks. They don't even know I'm taking cooking, so I can't tell them about this, and I definitely cannot tell them about Cyrus and how I can't seem to get him out of my head. 

 _God, why can't I get him out of my head?_ He's there constantly, and I know I shouldn't feel this way, and what I mean by  _this way_ , I can't really explain. It's just . . . not nothing. It's not like with any one of my other friends, and it's not like with the girls I've dated before. It's something. It's a tidal wave that rises and falls with his breath. It's the sound of an ocean that I hadn't realized even existed before. It's having no idea why I want to be around him so much; I just know that I do. 

I stop scrubbing when I feel my skin starting to burn, but the pink is still there—a bit more faded but definitely still there. As I stare at my reflection, I have an epiphany, which causes the muscles in my hands to tense up. I drop the cloth, and it hits the floor with a splat as I step back, trying to keep my head from hurting under the sudden pressure of my realization.  _I think I'm gay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh! So I wanted to write another chapter today too, but this took a while, and I have things to get done, so we'll see if I manage to do that. I love you guys! Thanks for reading!


	10. Blue

**Amber's POV**

 

A gentle knock on my door frame makes me look up to see my little brother standing there with two pink lines on both sides of his face. I close my laptop and spin around in my desk chair to face him. His eyes are puffy from crying, but it looks like he's all out of tears. 

"Hey," he says, his voice raspy and worn out. "Can I talk to you again? I don't really think I can talk to anyone else about this."

My heart breaks at the way his voice wavers, and I nod. He walks over and slowly lowers down onto my bed, his tongue between his lips as though he's thinking deeply about something, which he probably is. 

"Why is your face pink?" I ask. 

"Well, that's part of what I need to tell you," he answers. "Amber, I met this boy a while ago, and at first it was nothing. He was just another boy, but now—" his voice cuts out for a moment "—it's different. He helped me with my cooking assignment, and he drew warpaint streaks using pink icing on my face, and—and I liked it. I liked being around him. I felt kinda fuzzy inside, and I never feel fuzzy." He pauses to take in a breath before saying, "Amber, I'm scared."

I get up out of my chair and walk over to sit down next to him on my bed, reaching to take his hand in mine. 

"Why are you scared?" I ask gently. 

TJ's eyes fall to the floor. 

"Because I think I'm gay," comes his brittle whisper. 

Suddenly, I feel guilty. My brother is gay. He's had to deal with this alone, because I never talked to him. I could've been there for him, helped him through this, but instead I hid and kept him from seeing the real me. A good sister would've been honest with him. She would've known enough about her brother to know he was struggling. But I didn't. 

"It's not that scary," I say, feeling a tear of my own drip down my face. 

"How would you know?" he mutters. 

I draw in a deep breath, letting it out as I say, "TJ—I'm gay too."

TJ's eyes go wide and he falls back on the bed, letting go of my hand. He rubs his face as he lets out a groan. 

"That's so obvious," he says. "How did I not know that?" He sits back up, letting his hands fall to his lap. "Whenever we get ice cream, you always get the rainbow flavour."

I let out a laugh.

"Thanks for telling me," he says. 

"Thank  _you_  for telling  _me,"_  I respond. 

He smiles. "So is that girl—you know, the one who came over the other day—is she your girlfriend?"

"Andi? No," I sigh. "She's just a friend."

"That's sucks. So there's no point in trying to embarrass you by telling her about all the weird things you did as a kid, like when you were ten and spoke in an English accent for a week to try and convince everyone you were English, even though everybody already knew you."

"Yes, please don't tell her that," I say with a laugh. 

Our laughter settles into silence, staying like that until TJ asks another question.

"Do you like her as more than a friend?"

I sigh and fall back on my bed. "I'm trying not to."

_______________________________________ ****

That evening, I enter the kitchen to get a glass of water, but I'm stopped by my mother's voice before I can even get to the fridge. She must've just gotten home just now, because she definitely wasn't standing by the island the last time I came downstairs. 

"Hey, Amber," my mom says, "I found this in your car, and I was wondering when you got it?"

I look to see what she's holding up. It's the rainbow ornament that usually hangs from my rearview mirror. I must've forgotten to take it down when I got home from school.  _Fuck._

"That's, um, Iris'," I lie. "She put it in my car, and I guess she never took it back."

"Well, you should give it back to her," my mom says. "People will start to think you're gay if you keep it in your car."

I don't know how to respond at first, but eventually I say, "Yeah, um—yeah."

I quickly retreat out of the kitchen and run up the stairs. I pass my brother's room in a flash, but he still notices me. 

"Amber?" he calls. 

I ignore him, slamming my bedroom door shut behind me before burying my face in my pillow. Pretty soon, I hear the creak of my door opening, and I whip my head up to see TJ entering in. 

"What's going on?" he asks. 

"Nothing," I reply automatically, but then I try again. "Mom found the rainbow that hangs from my rearview mirror. She said I shouldn't have it up, because people will think I'm gay."

"Oof."

"Yeah," I agree. "Oof." Then I move on to a different topic, sitting up. "So how are you going to explain your, uh—pinkness to Mom and Dad?" 

"Oh, I'm planning on hiding in my room all night," TJ answers, "so if Mom and Dad ask why I'm not coming down for dinner, tell them I have a lot of science work to finish."

"Sure," I say. 

TJ smiles then reaches for my hand. 

"We're in this together now," he says. "You're not alone anymore."

"And neither are you," I respond. 

____________________________________

**Andi's POV**

As I enter the girls' washroom on the first floor, I see a head under one of the faucets. She's looking away from me, but I know her shape too well to not know who it is. The girl's blonde hair has been turned blue, and the sink is splattered with the same neon colour. She flips her head up after she's finished rinsing the colour out, sprinkling water droplets across the mirror. 

"What are you doing?" I ask.

Amber turns at the sound of my voice and pulls her hair over her shoulder to wring out the excess water with her hands, creating a puddle on the floor. 

"Just felt like trying something new," she replies. 

"So you dyed your hair? In the school washroom? How did someone not tell you to stop?"

"It's the first floor," she says. "Kids smoke weed in this washroom, and no one catches them."

That stops me for a moment, and I hold my eyes on her.

"You don't do that, right?" I check.

"No, Bambi. I'm not a druggie."

I let out a breath, relieved that the girl I like isn't into that stuff. She just likes spontaneously dying her hair blue, which, for some reason, makes me even more intrigued. 

"I like it," I say. "The blue. It looks good."

"Yeah? Thanks."

"Yeah. Do you have any dye left?"

She grins, leaning her hand on the counter. 

"You want me to do your hair?" she asks.

I nod. 

"Well, I'd need to bleach it first," she explains.

"Oh."

"So it's a good thing I have that in my locker."

I smile, Amber she steps up to touch my hair, giving me butterflies as she brushes it around with her fingers. 

"Maybe just something small," she says, "like a streak."

"Sure," I say. 

"Why do you want to do this all of a sudden?" she wonders. "I didn't expect you to be a spur-of-the-moment kind of person."

She drops her hand but stays close to me, her eyes penetrating mine in a way that makes me feel vulnerable, like she could crush me in the palm of her hand, and I'd be helpless to stop her. But I also feel safe, because I know she would never do that. I know she would only ever use her power over me to raise me higher. 

"I'm trying something new," I respond.

"So you're a rebel now," she says. "I ruined you, haven't I?"

I smile, trying hard not to let myself get lost in her pale blue eyes. 

"Only a little," I say. 

She lets out a laugh and slides her fingers through mine, linking our hands together. In that second, I forget how to breathe. She takes a step away, simultaneously stretching some kind of invisible cord between us, and I feel a tightness in my chest when I think she's about to let go. But she doesn't. She simply tugs my arm along to lead me out of the washroom and into the hallway. 

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"My locker," she answers. 

"Oh, yeah, right."

We walk a little farther, before I remember some plans we had made last week. 

"Our Harry Potter movie night," I say. "Wanna do that Friday?"

"I'd love to," Amber replies, "but I can't. Iris and I have this friend who's throwing a party." She glances over at me as she walks, raising her eyebrows in question. "You could come."

I've never been to a high school party before, and I have no idea what it would be like. There's probably not going to be silly string or my mom as a DJ, which makes me slightly nervous. But something about having Amber's hand in mine right now makes me feel like I can do anything, causing me to respond using spur-of-the-moment Andi's brain rather than that of reasonably cautious Andi. 

"Sure," I reply, unsure about whether or not I this is a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think it's a good idea? Leave a comment below! Apparently, I can't write a story without including a party in it somewhere. I love you guys! Thanks for reading! Next chapter is gonna be a good one! That'll be up by the end of Thursday most likely. Sorry, I work weird hours this week, so writing is kinda hard. I'm trying. Anyway, have a good night!


	11. Prove It

**TJ's POV**

 

As I round the corner of the hallway, neon blue flashes in my sight, and I glance over to get a better look at the girl passing by. When I realize who it is, I call out to stop her.

"Amber?" 

She spins around and comes over to me, a casual smile on her face. 

"Hey," she says.

"When did you dye your hair?" I ask, trying to think back to whether it was like that this morning or not. I don't think it was. 

"What dyed hair?" she asks. 

"Amber, your hair is blue."

She blinks innocently, responding, "Hmm, weird." 

"Amber—"

"Relax," she says. "Worry about yourself. I see the pink is still there."

I become self-conscious again at that. I had forgotten that my cheeks still had faded pink lines on them for a few minutes. I've been avoiding my friends all morning so that they wouldn't ask me about it. 

"Yeah," I say. "Who knew food colouring stained skin."

"Everyone," Amber responds. "But it's cute. Have you talked to that boy yet today?" 

"No, I haven't," I reply. "I've been trying to stay away from all people today. I just want to wait until this pink is gone."

"I bet that boy has pink left on his face too," Amber says. 

"Great," I respond sarcastically, "so people can know we match."

"Oh, come on. It's cute," Amber insists. "Matching pink warpaint with your boyfriend—"

"He is not my boyfriend," I hiss. "And don't say that so loud. Anyone could hear."

"TJ, literally no one cares. You've only been here for two weeks, so you wouldn't know yet, but this is a really gay school. Iris and I took a poll in grade ten and found out that 35% of the kids here are LGBT+, and that's just the people who are out."

"So that's why you're still in grade ten math," I conclude. "You waste time taking useless polls."

She rolls her eyes. "I'll see you later, Pinky."

"Later, Blue."

She smiles and walks off down the hall. I carry on in the opposite direction, but as soon as I turn the corner, I spot Reed and Lester and immediately change course. 

"TJ!" Reed's voice calls, but I'm already rushing away. 

I curve through the halls and into the side stairwell that leads from first to fifth, hiding behind the wall until their footsteps pass. 

"TJ?" comes his voice again through the wall. 

Eventually, I figure it's safe to leave, because I no longer hear them around, and I step back out into the hallway. While my focus is behind me, checking to make sure my friends are gone, my feet step forward, and I collide with another person. I'm relieved to see that it's Cyrus and not someone who would make fun of me. 

He smiles up at me with gentle eyes and touches his finger to my cheek where the pink is. 

"That never came off, huh?" he observes. 

"I see it didn't for you either," I say. 

He shrugs. His pink warpaint is more vibrant than mine, showing that he probably didn't spend as long as I did trying to rub it off. I kind of like the way he looks with it. It's a reminder that I was with him, and I like knowing that something about me is a part of him now. 

"Why were you in such a rush?" Cyrus asks. 

"My friends were there," I explain. "I'm kinda trying to avoid them."

"Why?" Then he gets it. "Oh, because they're too wimpy to handle the manliness of pink."

I chuckle as I respond, "Yeah."

"I think pink suits you," he says. 

"Thanks. You too."

"I know," he responds with a grin, "but thanks for saying it."

He holds our gaze for a moment longer, but it's still too soon when he turns away. 

"I've got to go work on a science lab, but I'll talk to you another time," he says.

"Yup," I respond, "another time."

Even knowing he's still here in the same building as me, that's still not enough. I need him next to me. I need my arms back around him the way they were on Friday. I just need him.

_____________________________________

Right as I come out of the stairwell, I see my friends chatting in a cluster. I start to turn around, but Reed's shout makes me stop. 

"Dude, we see you!" Reed says. "Why are you avoiding us?"

I hold my breath as I bring myself back to face them, walking over to my friends. When they see the colour on my cheeks, they all break into laughter. 

"What happened to your face, bro?" Ross asks, failing to hold back his amusement. "Did you get into your sister's makeup?"

Although I've had plenty of time to think it through, a good reason as to why my face is dyed pink hasn't come into my head yet, so I let out a sigh, having to settle with the truth. 

"It's food dye," I confess. "I'm taking cooking."

"Okay, so you decided to be a cooking warrior and draw lines on your face?" Lester jokes. 

I consider for a moment whether or not I could get away with saying it was an accident, but the lines are far too perfectly placed for that to be believable. 

"No, uh, my friend did this," I say, praying for no more questions. 

"What friend?" Ross questions. 

"Uh, his name is Cyrus," I answer. 

As I glance over at the open doors to the science room, I see just the boy I'm talking about working on a lab with his friends. 

"That's him," I say.

Although I probably shouldn't have pointed him out, I only realize that after I've already done so. By now, I've accepted the fact that seeing him makes me forget about everything bad that could happen, and I guess I just had a moment of thinking it's not possible for my friends to not like him as much as I do. I wish I had retained enough of my good judgement to not let myself get caught up in that. 

"That kid from our TA?" Reed asks. "Why are you hanging out with that nerd?"

"He's nice," I say.  _And cute and sweet and makes me feel like I'm more than just the tough basketball jock._

"I'm sure he is," Reed responds, "but you should stick with our crowd. You have a reputation, and that kid doesn't fit into it."

I look back over to where Cyrus is and realize Reed might be right. It doesn't matter that I like this boy. My friends don't even think I should be hanging around him. If I ignore them, I will lose my place in our group, and probably even my spot on the basketball team, because the captain runs with my friends as well. Essentially, I'd be risking everything I consider normal if I continued to pursue something more than just nothing with Cyrus. 

_But I like him. Would that be enough?_

"TJ," Lester says, getting my attention. "You coming?"

I return my eyes to my friends who have already started walking down the hall.

"Uh, yeah."

As I step after them, I take one last glance at Cyrus. His eyes catch mine, and I feel the air above me suddenly become about a hundred pounds heavier as he waves in my direction. 

"TJ," Reed calls. 

My eyes stay on Cyrus for a second longer. Then I break them away and carry on after my friends. Reed gives my shoulder a pat as I join alongside him, but the jolt shatters the piece of me that was holding the rest in tact, and the guilt comes pouring in.

 

**Cyrus' POV**

 

"Did TJ seriously just ignore you again?" Buffy says. 

Her and Jonah stand around a counter with me. We're currently in the middle of doing a lab, but TJ just managed to make me completely stop caring about the pH strips and tubes of various liquids in front of us.  _Why did he ignore me again? I thought we were past this._ I know his friends were there, but I thought he might as least smile this time. Clearly my expectations were too high.

"Yeah," I respond.

"Fuck him," Buffy says. 

"But he's a jerk," Jonah butts in, "so don't fuck him."

The comments causes Jonah and Buffy to chuckle, but I can't find it in me to laugh. 

"Are you mad at him?" Jonah asks, noticing my lack of response. 

"Yes," I admit. 

"Are you about to go talk to him?" Jonah follows up. 

"Yes."

"Cyrus," Buffy says, "don't give him the time of day. He's not worth it."

"Guys, I really don't think TJ's a bad person," I explain, "but I'm getting really sick of this, so I'm going to tell him that."

"Do you really have to?" Buffy asks. "Knowing how forgiving you are, you'll probably end up liking him even more."

"Don't worry," I insist. "I'm just going to tell him how I don't like him ignoring me."

Buffy and Jonah both share a glance. 

"Fine," Buffy says. "But you better not get back and tell us that you ended up kissing him or something."

"That definitely won't happen," I assure them. 

I step away, leaving my lab coat on the counter with my friends. The halls are fairly empty, so it doesn't take me long to get to the stairwell. Knowing TJ's personality, I wouldn't expect him to be in the history room, because that's where all the quiet kids work, so I skip that one completely. After peeking my head into math and not finding him there, I move down to the fourth floor, wondering if he might be in the learning commons. 

The learning commons serves as the cafeteria during lunch, but it becomes a group work space during prime time. It's perfect for doing projects, because people are able to chat freely while they work, but it's also a favorite room for the more talkative kids to set up camp during the school day. 

Right as I get up to the doors, the blonde boy I'm looking for walks out, stopping in front of me. 

"TJ," I say, "I need to talk to you."

TJ glances behind him at where his friends are sitting, none of them paying any attention to us. 

"Fine," he responds. "But let's go somewhere else."

He jets ahead of me in a fast walk toward the end of the hall. I follow him through the door to the practice rooms, which are the rooms band students use when they need to practice playing their instruments. With walls blocking them from the hallway's view, many students come here when they want to have a private conversation. I've heard that some students do other private things in here as well, but I'm not going to get into explaining that. 

TJ goes into one of the small practice rooms, and I follow, closing the door behind us. He leans against the tiny desk at the back of the room, and I stand by the wall across from him, my annoyed eyes on his. 

"TJ, I know you don't want your friends to know you're friends with me," I start, "but it feels pretty shitty when you ignore me. I'm not someone you can just blow off when it's inconvenient for you."

TJ stays quiet, so I take a breath and continue with my rant. 

"How would you feel if I said I wanted to talk to you, but only as long as nobody else knows we're friends? Look, I like you. I like you a lot, but if you can't even let your friends see you smile at me, then maybe that's a mistake on my part."

The boy's face is blank as though he's still trying to process what I just told him. 

"TJ, say something!" I beg. 

"I would," he says, standing up so that he's not leaning anymore, "but I'd rather kiss you."

I take a stride forward, narrowing the gap between us, my steal eyes staring up at him. 

"Then do it, you coward," I challenge. 

TJ grins and moves in a little too. "I don't usually kiss people who call me a coward."

I raise an eyebrow. "Is that not what you are?"

"No."

"Prove it."

His proof comes as he steps up to me and takes my jaw in his hands as he puts his lips on mine. If the racing of my heartbeat weren't enough evidence to show me that this is right, then the zap of energy I feel flood through me when he brings his hands to my waist to pull my body against his would certainly convince me. 

When he removes his lips from mine, his breath is quiet but quick as he attempts to catch it. 

"Do you believe me now?" TJ asks in a whisper. 

I grin, saying, "I told my friends I wouldn't kiss you."

"I guess that makes you a liar," he responds before returning back to me.

As he kisses me again, I feel my lungs rise as though he somehow actually manages to take my breath away and replace it with his, and I conclude that I'm completely okay with being a liar. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop is about to die, so yeah. Thanks for reading! I like how this turned out, and now I need to leave, so good timing. I love you all! I'll see you with the next chapter!


	12. What Friend?

**Cyrus' POV**

 

I walk back into the science room, trying my hardest not to let my lips turn up into a grin. I have to bite my cheek to keep my calm expression, but on the inside I'm anything but calm. TJ Kippen, the tall, cute basketball player who only associates with jocks just kissed me, Cyrus Goodman, the exact opposite of a jock. 

Jonah spots me as I approach him and Buffy in lab area again, asking me, "How'd it go?"

His question causes the ends of my smile to curl at the memory of how it went, and Buffy's eyes widen. 

"You kissed him!" she states. 

I open my mouth to defend myself, but I have no basis for argument. 

"You said you wouldn't kiss him," Buffy says.

"Technically," I altercate, "I said I wouldn't come back and  _tell you_  I kissed him, which I didn't. You did."

Buffy's look of shock changes into a laugh, and Jonah gives my shoulder a friendly punch. 

"Looks like you're the first one of us to reach that goal we made," Jonah says. 

"Well, almost," I respond. "He didn't mention what we are or what he wants us to be. And with him so worried about how his friends see him, I'm not really sure what he wants."

"Why don't you tell him what you want?" Jonah suggests. 

I take a moment to phrase my response in my head before saying it out loud. 

"TJ is like a stray cat in a new neighbourhood" I finally reply. "You can't just go outside and pick up the cat or it will run away. You have to let it get comfortable with its surroundings first."

"Wait, so you think you're the first guy he's liked?" Buffy clarifies. 

"Maybe not the first he's liked," I say, "but definitely the first he's kissed."

Jonah's attention is diverted by the chime of his text tone, and he takes out his phone to read his messages. Buffy and I watch curiously as he smiles wide at the screen. 

"What are you so smiley about?" Buffy wonders. 

Jonah doesn't even hear her, so she tries again to get his attention by clapping loudly in front of his face. 

He snaps his neck up, saying, "Yeah?"

"Who are you texting?" Buffy asks. 

"Uh, no one," he replies. 

"Yeah right. Let me see."

Jonah tries to hide the phone behind his hands, but Buffy reaches over to grab it. He hardly even puts up a fight, knowing he'd just lose anyway. When Buffy looks at the messages, a look of confusion flashes on her face. 

"Since when are you friends with Walker?" 

He stutters as he answers, "He's—uh—he . . . We did a lab together last week. I guess we just started talking."

"Interesting," Buffy says. "So do you smile that much when all of your friends text you?"

Jonah freezes for a second before flatly saying, "Yes."

"Sure," Buffy responds, not believing him a bit. 

She raises an eyebrow and gives me a glance, and I catch on to her thoughts immediately. 

"You know, I'm pretty sure Walker is bi," I mention to Jonah. 

"Cool," Jonah responds, but his calmness is interfered by the blush creeping into his cheeks. 

All of a sudden, our other friend walks up to our counter, acting normally as though there's not a brand new blue streak in the front of her dark hair. 

"Want to go to lunch?" Andi asks. 

Jonah, who hasn't looked at her yet, replies sharply, "Yes, please."

Then he notices it too and his jaw drops. 

"What did you do?" Buffy asks.

"Oh, right," she says like she just remembered the change to her hair. "My, uh, friend did this."

"What friend?" I ask. 

"Her name's Amber," Andi answers. 

"Why haven't we met this Amber?" I wonder.

"You will," she says, "at some point. Anyway, lunch?"

"Hold up," Buffy tells her. "I want to hear more about this girl who dyed your hair."

"Okay, um, you know that blonde lesbian from the art room?"

"That's her?" Buffy says. 

"Yeah, but she's not blonde anymore," Andi adds. 

"Andi," I say, "isn't that the exact kind of girl your mom told you not to associate with."

"I know, but I really like her, and she's actually really nice and cool, and she makes me feel kind of dangerous in a way, and it's kind of exciting, and, oh, by the way, I think I'm pansexual."

"Wait, what?" Jonah reacts, trying hard to grab everything that was just thrown."

Andi sighs. "But I told her I was straight when I first met her."

"Wait," Buffy stops her, "so you want to date this girl?"

"I don't know," Andi replies. "I just want to be close to her and kiss her, and, shit, yeah, I guess I want to date her."

"Okay, so tell her you're not straight," I say. 

"It's not that easy," Andi argues. "You haven't told your crush that you're gay."

"No, but I kissed him."

Andi's mouth gapes at the news. "When did this happen?"

"Literally right before you got here," Buffy answers. 

"Oh," Andi says. "Well, congrats."

I laugh, saying, "Thanks."

"So lunch," Jonah brings up again. "Can we actually go eat? I'm hungry."

______________________________________

**TJ's POV**

 

I feel conflicted when I see my reflection in my phone screen as I sit with my friends in the learning commons in the afternoon. It makes me self-conscious again at the sight of the pink lines, because my friends have been picking on me all day about it. But I'm also kind of glad they're still there, because it assures me that I didn't imagine everything about Cyrus. It connects us together and reminds me that there's another pink-faced boy in this school, and that boy kissed me this morning. 

It was a spur of the moment decision. I'd never kissed a boy before, and I wanted to see if it would be any different than with a girl. It was. Now all I can think about is Cyrus. Even when my friends talk to me, I find myself needing them to repeat what they're saying, because my brain just opts out of listening to replay the memory of this morning in my head. 

"TJ?" Reed says, waving a hand over my face. 

"Huh?" I respond. I hadn't realized he was talking to me. 

"I said what unit is that?"

He points to my learning guide, and I lift up the Duo-Tang to show him. 

"Poetry," he reads out. "Gross."

"Yeah," I respond with an awkward chuckle. 

I actually don't mind poetry. I actually kind of like it, but the school seems to only pick boring poems that I can't relate to at all.

Past Reed's head, I notice a boy through the glass windows which divide the learning commons from the hall. He catches my stare and gives me a smile, to which I stand up. 

"I'm going to the washroom," I tell my friends. "I'll be back."

They don't even respond. They've already moved on to another conversation which doesn't include me, so I just step away from the table and go out into the hall. I walk past  Cyrus, waving for him to follow me down to the end of the hall where the learning commons is blocked off by a wall. There, I stop and spin around to face him. 

"Hey," I say with a smile. 

"Hey," he responds. 

"So I was thinking about things," I start.

"What kind of things?" he asks with a grin.

"I haven't actually taken you on a date yet."

"That is correct. We should fix that."

"We should," I agree. "How does Saturday sound?"

"Sounds great. What do you have in mind?"

"That's a surprise," I say. 

I actually just don't know what we're going to do yet. I just don't want to let another moment pass without knowing I'm going to get to be alone with him again. 

"I love surprises," Cyrus says. 

Suddenly, I see a couple of my other friends enter the fourth floor from the stairwell, and I realize I need to wrap this up quick. 

"I've got to go," I say, "but I'll see you Saturday, and probably tomorrow."

He smiles and nods before stepping back to head off away from me. Immediately, half of me regrets ending the conversation, but the other half is thankful that I did that, because I hear one of the guys call my name, meaning they would've bugged me about Cyrus if they had seen me talking to him. I'd rather not have him become a common topic in my friend group, because I already know that my entire relationship with him would be controversial. 

______________________________________

**Andi's POV**

 

I close the door to my house gently, attempting to not alert my parents of my presence, but the sound of me stumbling over the edge of the rug does that anyway. 

"Andi?" comes my dad's voice. "How was your . . . What did you do to your hair?"

He stops as soon as he steps out of the kitchen to look at me. 

"Uh, I made it blue," I explain. 

"Did you do that at school?" he asks. 

Suddenly, Bex comes out of the kitchen too, saying, "What are you guys talking . . . Oh, interesting."

"Are you mad?" I ask them. 

"Well," Bex starts, giving Bowie a glance to make sure they're on the same page, "I wish you would've told us you were going to dye your hair."

"Yeah," I say. "I kinda did it on a whim."

"Yeah, maybe don't do that again," my mom recommends as she steps up to examine my head. "It looks good, so you got lucky. Impulse decisions don't exactly have the best track record for working out well."

"Yeah," I respond.  _I've been making a lot of impulse decisions lately._

"You did a really good job," Bex says, still scanning my hair. "And you knew to leave the roots natural. Did you do this yourself?" 

"Uh, no," I confess. "My friend did."

"Which one?" 

"Um . . . her name is Amber."

"I don't remember ever hearing about this person before?" my mom says. "Did you just meet them?"

"Yeah," I lie. "She was doing hair dying in cosmetology, and I offered myself for practice."

"Your school has cosmetology?" Bex responds. 

"Yup."  _Nope._

"Well, next time," Bowie cuts back in, "let us know before you go and do anything permanent to yourself like this."

"Yeah," Bex agrees. "Don't be coming home with a nose piercing or something."

Although I don't doubt that the effect Amber has on me is strong enough to make me do that just to spend more time with her, I don't think that's likely to happen. 

"I won't," I assure them.

"Okay," my mom says. "Now go do your homework."

I smile and start toward my bedroom, but I stop before leaving the room.

"Hey," I say, "is it okay if I go to a party on Friday?"

"What kind of party?" my dad wonders. 

The look on his face lets me know that the likelihood of him letting me go to an actual high school party is slim, so I need to make a quick U-turn in my question. 

"It's a welcome back party," I say, "for Jonah's cousin."

"Where was Jonah's cousin?" my mom asks. 

"Uh—Iqaluit," I reply, saying the first place that comes to mind. 

"Why was he in Iqaluit?" my dad questions. 

"That's what I'm going to find out," I answer. "So can I go?"

"Sure," Bex replies. "Do you need a ride there?"

"No, uh, Cyrus' mom is driving us all."

"Okay," my mom accepts. 

"Thanks," I say. 

Then I turn around and continue on to my bedroom, feeling both thankful that they actually believed me and terrified that I'm actually doing this. I'm going to a party with the girl I like.  _I'm going to a party with the girl I like, and I have no idea what the hell I'm doing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on another road trip today! So I'm hyped for that. Mother's Day is coming up, and I'm so disorganized. I literally forgot about it until today. I'm listening to a bop of a song: Sixteen by Chelsea Cutler. Anyway, I hope this chapter was good. It's basically just setting up future chapters, but that's always needed. Love you all! Bye!


	13. Isn't It Obvious?

**Andi's POV**

 

"You look scared," Amber says. 

We stand on the porch of the house of whichever one of Amber's friends this belongs to. Unlike how I imagined it, there's no ear-killing music, and I don't see a thousand people packed into the place through the window. There's just an overwhelming stench of marijuana seeping through the screen in the window. 

"That makes sense," I respond, "since I am. Who's all here?"

"Not a lot of people," Amber assures me. "Just some of Tasia's friends and a few others. I bet there are a lot of cute boys here."

I should just tell her now that I'm not straight. This is the perfect Segway, but then I'd have to tell her how I realized that, and I don't know how to explain myself without explaining that she's how I know I like girls. 

"Great," I say instead, clenching my teeth to keep myself from screaming. 

She smiles and reaches for the door handle, but I grab her wrist to stop her, and she turns to me. 

"Amber," I say, "I've never been to a party before. I mean, I've been to parties, but not, like, a real party."

She twirls her wrist out of my grip and takes my hand instead, giving it a squeeze. 

"Don't worry, Bambi," she says, "I'll protect you."

She reaches for the handle, keeping her other hand connected to mine as she pushes open the door. We immediately descend the stairs into the basement where the party is mostly consolidated. It's not near as chaotic as I pictured it would be. There are still a lot of people here, but most are just hanging out and talking while drinking whatever is in all those cans, bottles and cups. Amber leads me through the space toward a group of girls, whom she greets with a hug which unfortunately means she has to let my hand go. 

I recognize Iris, but beside her are two other girls, both whom I don't know. I've seen them before, though. One of the girls has black hair in braided spirals that fall down her back like a waterfall, while the other has an blonde roots that fade into a pale pink at the ends. Her aesthetic is particularly interesting because of her torn, black jeans and loose, black shirt with fringe at the bottom that looks like it was home-done using a paper shredder. 

"Andi, this is Tasia and Pepper," Amber says, pointing to the girl with braids then to the one with the faded pink hair.

"Hi," I say shyly, feeling like a chihuahua among a pack of wolves. 

"Hey," Tasia responds, "you guys want anything to drink?"

I'm about to say sure, but I realize what the drinks she's referring to are when Amber answers first.

"No thanks," Amber says, "I'm driving."

"No problem," Tasia says, then she looks at me. 

"I don't drink," I tell her.

She nods and begins talking about her day, explaining all about how there's going to be an improv show before Halloween and how it's a practice for the team's competition in November. While she talks, Iris steps around to me, and I spin away from the conversation to listen to what she says. 

"Have you met my girlfriend yet?" she asks.

"Libby? Yeah, I know her. She used to date my friend."

"Oh, small world."

I notice Libby talking to some other kids over by a dark wood bookcase. Overall, the room has a very western vibe. The furniture is all brown leather, and there's a horseshoe hanging on the wall next to a giant wooden wagon wheel. 

Iris starts walking over to where Libby is, and I follow behind her. Before we get to the girl, the ginger spots us and comes toward us. 

 _Hi,_ she signs.

"Hi," I respond. "How did you two meet?" I wonder, curious since they wouldn't have been at the same school.

"Our siblings are friends," Iris explains. 

 _How do you know Iris?_ Libby wonders. 

"Oh, I know her through . . ." I glance around at Amber, but I feel my heart sink when I see her laughing with another girl, one I don't know. ". . . Amber."

She's probably just another one of her friends. I shouldn't be upset. 

"That's Shara," Iris says, noticing where my eyes have gone. "Amber said Shara's been flirting with her recently. Personally, I think they'd make a really cute couple."

This is my own fault. I should've told Amber how I felt sooner. She's not doing anything wrong by talking to another girl. But it still hurts to see. 

"Yeah," I say. "Um, I'm gonna go, uh, over there."

I spin away in a rush to go over to sit on a stool at the home bar set-up on the other side of the room. I lay my head down on the counter in my arms, trying to convince my stomach to stop feeling all gross. Suddenly, a familiar voice snaps my attention back up.

"Not feelin' too hot?" Marty asks. 

"Oh, hey, Marty," I mumble as I use my hand to prop up my head. "I'm fine."

"You sure about that?"

"No," I admit. 

"Hmm," he responds, accepting my lack of communication. "You know, Buffy didn't want to come to this, and I'm pretty sure Cyrus isn't much for parties. Now, I'd guess you came with Jonah, but I don't see him here, so that leaves the question: why are you here?" 

"I, um . . ." I hesitate to mention Amber. "I came with a different friend."

"And where are they?"

"Over there," I say, gesturing behind me with my thumb, "talking to some girl."

Marty watches as I pick at my nail polish, scraping it off to keep my mind from having nothing but Amber to focus on. 

"You sound like you want to murder that girl talking to your friend," Marty comments. 

"Yeah, I don't know," I mutter. 

Marty nods. "Want me to get you something to drink?" 

"No, thanks," I reply. "I don't drink."

"That's cool," Marty responds. "I just thought you might be looking to get your mind off whatever is going on. What is going on?"

"It's her," I confess. "I was stupid. Marty, how do I tell a girl I want to kiss her?"

"Well, fuck, if I knew, I'd have told Buffy that already."

"Wait, so you, a cool guy who goes to parties and has tons of friends, Marty from the party, has trouble talking to girls?"

"Not usually," he says. "But Buffy's different."

"That's so cute," I respond.

"What about your girl?" he asks.

His question brings Amber back to the forefront of my mind, and I'm surprised that I could even forget about her for a second to think about Buffy and Marty. I glance back over my shoulder to look back at her, and she's still talking with that girl. The girl, Shara, takes Amber by her hand and Amber goes with her down the hallway that branches off from the room. As I watch them disappear, my head begins plucking at every possible idea of what they could be doing together. I turn back to Marty, finding it hard to breathe, as though my chest is being crushed by some invisible hand. 

"Maybe I do drink," I say. 

________________________________________

**Amber's POV**

 

"That was amazing," I say. 

"Thanks," Shara says as she places the electric guitar back in its stand. 

The guitar is only one among the four in this room. In sit on the desk chair across from the cow-print couch where Shara sits. 

"How long have you been playing for?" I ask. 

"Two years," she answers. 

"And you're already that good? That's impressive."

My eyes wander over to the digital clock on the corner table, and I suddenly realize that Andi's probably wondering where I am. 

"I've got to go," I explain, "but I'll see you Monday."

"Of course," Shara responds. "Bye."

I smile at her before leaving the room to walk back down the hallway, but when I look around the main room, I don't see the girl I'm searching for. I walk over to where Iris is talking with Libby, hoping she knows where Andi is. 

"Hey," I say, "have you seen Andi?"

"I saw her go down the hall," Iris answers. "I'm not sure exactly where."

"Thanks."

I turn back to the hall and begin peeking into every open door. The last on the right is where I hear sniffing, and I carefully press the door open a bit more. 

"Andi?" I call out. 

The sniffles stop, and I look around inside the storage room. Boxes and shelves fill the space, with strings of Christmas lights glowing colours on the walls from above. In the left corner, I see the girl sitting atop a giant stuffed bear and playing with a Rubik's Cube. She's one step away from solving it. I walk over and sink down next to her. She stiffens as our shoulders touch, which confuses me. She was alway fine with us being this close before. 

"What's up?" I ask. 

She wipes her cheek to clear away any leftover tears before finishing the last move on the cube and solving the puzzle. 

"It's nothing," she replies. "It's stupid."

"If it makes you cry, it's not stupid," I state. I reach over and snatch the cube from her hands, making her focus more on me. "What's going on?"

"I—I can't tell you," she says.

"Why not?"

"Because it involves you."

"Andi, if I did something, I'm sorry," I say. "I just need to know what."

"You didn't do anything," she responds. She takes a moment to form her thoughts before continuing. "I was about to try alcohol for the first time tonight. But I decided to come here and cry instead."

"No offence, Andi," I respond. "I know you're all rebellious now, but I would not expect that you, a sweet, little, fourteen-year-old goody-two-shoes would ever think about drinking."

"Hey, I'm not a goody-two-shoes," she argues. "I've changed quite a bit since starting high school  three weeks ago."

"And who gets the credit for that?" 

"You," she admits. 

She goes quiet, and I realize I need to press further to get more information.

"Why were you going to drink?" I ask. "And how does it involve me?"

"It's, um . . ." She draws in a deep breath, letting it out in a shudder. "I, uh, I'm, um—I'm pan."

"Pan as in . . . not straight?" I clarify. 

She nods, looking ahead again to avoid meeting my eyes. 

So she's not straight. She just doesn't like me. I can live with that. At least I'm not wondering anymore if there'd be hope for us if she liked girls. 

"Okay," I say, "so again, what does that have to do with me?"

She puts her hands over her face, leaning back against the wall as she huffs a breath of annoyance. 

"Amber, isn't it obvious? It's you. I like you." She drops her hands back into her lap. "I like you."

 _Is this real?_   _Is Andi really saying she likes me as more than just a friend? Did my chain of only liking straight girls just get broken?_

"I'm such an idiot," she mutters. 

"Andi—"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I should've just kept it to myself."

"No, Andi—"

"I don't know what I was thinking. I'll just leave."

Andi rushes to push herself up off the teddy bear she was using as a cushion. She takes a step away, but I bolt up onto my feet in an instant and reach for her hand before she get can any farther. 

"Amber," she says, turning back to face me, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Holy fuck, Andi!" I interrupt. "Will you just shut up so I can kiss you?"

Her sad eyes go wide at that, clearly not sure how to process my words. 

"Amber—" 

I cut her off by taking her head in my hands and stepping in to kiss her. At first, she's caught off guard, but she quickly softens, bringing her hands to my waist as mine wander around to the back of her neck. She comes in closer, sealing us together, neither one of us caring that our first kiss is in a basement storage room among dozens of dusty boxes. We're both too locked in this moment, too far gone into our own world. There's no noise but the thumping in my chest echoing through me like a drumroll. This—she—is everything, the only thing, I want right now, and I don't care about anything else going on outside this room. Her hands pull me in tighter, and I gladly obey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that was a Modern Baseball reference. Sorry this chapter took FOREVER. I've been working, cause summer jobs exist, so yeah. Now I'm going to go to Urban Outfitters to waste my money, because yeah. Love you! Bye! See you again in the next chapter!


	14. You Are Yours

**Andi's POV**

 

Amber pulls the keys out of the ignition, and the hum of the car dies, revealing the quiet whistle of the wind in the trees. Streetlights illuminate orbs of yellow on the pavement and across the car. One flash hits the left side of Amber's face as she looks over at me, casting a shadow upon her right. What's left of her lipgloss shimmers in the light, holding my attention while she talks. 

"Can I walk you to your door?" she asks. 

I nod then reach for the handle to let myself out of the car and meet her at the steps up to my house's door. She stands beside me for a second, both of us not moving, and my eyes fall down to our hands. 

I try to talk, but it comes out in a stutter. "I—um—can I—?"

She slips her hand into mine, cutting off my speech by unleashing butterflies throughout my veins. 

"Yes," she answers. 

I smile, and we walk up to my door together. I'm about to unlock it when I remember that my parents are probably home, and they don't even know Amber exists. 

"Wait, Amber," I say, but my words are interrupted by the opening of my home door.

My dad looks out at us, and I quickly let go of Amber's hand before he can notice me holding it. 

"Hey, Andi," he says. Then he turns his eyes to Amber. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Amber," I say before Amber can say anything. "She's from school. She drove me home."

I don't want Amber to say anything about herself, because I'd rather be in control of what my parents hear about her. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Amber," my dad says. "You've got blue hair too, huh? Are you the girl who did Andi's hair for that cosmetology class?"

Amber glances at me, eyebrows scrunched in puzzlement.

"Yup," I answer for her. Then I turn to Amber. "Wanna come inside?"

She nods, clearly just as curious to hear my explanation for everything I'm saying right now as I am eager to explain it. My dad steps aside to let us in. After removing my shoes, I start toward my room, but I'm stopped by my mom's voice. 

"Hey, how was Jonah's cousin's welcome home party?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It was fun," I reply. "Thanks, Mom."

I see Bex look to Amber, clearly waiting for me to explain who she is. 

"This is Amber," I tell her, "a friend from school."

"That's nice," my mom says. "Are you friends with Jonah as well?"

"Yeah," Amber lies, catching on to the story I've made up. "I knew his cousin, too. It was really great to welcome him home from . . . um . . ."

"Iqaluit," I finish. 

"Right, yeah," she says. 

"Yeah, um, let's go to my room," I say. 

She follows me out of the living room and into my bedroom. I close the door tight before making my way over to sit next to her on the bed. As soon as I drop onto the quilt, I clasp on to her open hand. Amber looks at me with an amused look on her face.

"Jonah's cousin's welcome back party?" she says with a laugh. 

"I had to think on the spot," I defend. "I'm not exactly the best at lying."

"Then why are you lying?"

I sigh. "Before I started high school, Bex literally told me to stay away from girls exactly like you, and no offence, but you're not really the greatest influence on me, but I like you, and I want them to like you too, so I made up some little white lies to make you seem less—well—angsty, and now I've dug this hole, and I—"

Her lips find mine, breaking off my speech. I completely lose my train of thought while we're kissing, because my mind has been taken over by the desire to get closer to her. When she lets me go, I remember what I was saying, but the worry I felt before feels disconnected now.

"That's one way to shut me up," I say. 

She smiles and places my hand gently in my lap before letting it go. 

"I need to get home," she says. "My parents will be home soon, and they don't know I'm out."

"You can't stay a little longer?"

"I wish I could," she says.

I frown, but she stands up anyway, stepping away slowly. 

"You still up for that Harry Potter marathon tomorrow?" she asks. 

"Definitely," I reply.

She blows me a kiss before leaving through the door. As soon as she disappears, the room feels static, and I have a second of wondering if she was just here with me or if it was all a dream. To make sure, I get up and hurry out of my room toward the window at the front of the apartment. It hits me again that this is reality when I see her car's headlights flick on, and I watch the Mini Cooper drive away.

________________________________________

**Amber's POV**

 

"Guess what I did!" I exclaim as I burst into my brother's room. 

TJ looks up from his phone, startled by my appearance. 

"Well, it wasn't learn how to knock," he says. 

I roll my eyes and shut the door before sitting down in his desk chair, across from where he sits on his bed. 

"Andi kissed me," I tell him. "Well, I kissed her."

"Didn't you say she was straight?" he asks. 

"Didn't you say you were straight?" I counter. 

"That's fair."

"Yeah, so if you're gonna be home tomorrow night, don't bother us," I request. 

"I won't," he obliges. "I'll be out with Cyrus tomorrow."

"Oooh, your first official date? You have to tell me all about it after."

"I will," he says with a grin. 

I understand how he feels. We're both just two smitten Kippens grinning like idiots at the thought of the people we like. I never thought I'd be telling him about a girl I like this year, and I certainly never thought he'd ever come out to me, because I always thought he was straight. It's actually insane the things you learn about someone when you just listen and let them talk. 

All of a sudden, both of our phones go off, and we open up our messages to see the same text from our mom. 

 **Mom:**  I'll be home in 15. I was thinking we could have a family board game night tomorrow.

I look up at TJ who's already typing his response. 

 **TJ:**  Can't. I'm hanging out with a friend tomorrow.

 **Amber:**  Me too. I have a friend coming over.

I stare at both our messages for a moment. It feels so natural just to lie at this point. It's so much easier than telling the truth. I can tell TJ thinks the same thing. 

 **Mom:** That's okay. Maybe your dad and I will just go out and do something on our own then.

I put down my phone on TJ's desk, happy that I won't have to worry about my parents being around when Andi comes over. TJ, on the other hand, seems brought down by the texts. 

"Amber," he says, "how did you live knowing that they might not like you if they knew."

I take a slow breath, not sure how to answer that. 

"I usually just ignore that," I eventually respond. 

"Does that make you feel less guilty?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment while I contemplate, but TJ's eyes don't leave mine for even a second. 

"The guilt goes away pretty fast," I say. "I just remember that I don't owe them an explanation of this part of me. This is my secret—yours too—and you are not obligated to tell them anything."

TJ nods in understanding, but he doesn't seem fully convinced, so I go over to sit down across from him on the bed. 

"You are yours," I tell him. "You can choose how much of you you want to let another person know. You can come out or not. That's your choice to make. Don't ever feel guilty for that."

"Amber?" he mutters. 

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming out to me."

Somehow, his gratitude stings. I could've told him a lot sooner, and we could've been this close a long time ago. But I was too scared to say anything. I know I was never obligated to tell him. I know that. But I just wonder what would've happened if I had told him when I first realized I was gay back in middle school. Maybe he would've had an easier time too. Maybe we both wouldn't have felt so alone. I don't know. 

I've just always known that when you share with someone else a piece of information about who you are, you are really giving them power—power to safeguard or abuse that information if they choose to. That hardest part is deciding how much power you want to give away, and how much you should keep for yourself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I kinda ended up going on a real deep rant at the end there. I'm getting an A&W beyond meat burger and I'm seriously so excited, because I am hungry. Anyway, I'll see y'all hopefully tomorrow with a new chapter, but we'll see how that goes. Also, I have a plan for another, shorter Tyrus fic after this, so so simply discard me once this is over. Thanks. Bye!


	15. Haven't Told Them

**TJ's POV**

 

Cyrus smiles at me as he walks up to meet me outside the diner. As soon as I see him, I'm speechless. He chose a nice, pale blue, button-up shirt to wear tonight, while I just came in a hoodie and jeans. The wind blows his hair around, which he reaches up to fix back into place, but, even if he hadn't fixed it, it'd still be perfect.  _God, everything about him is perfect._

"TJ?" he says, snapping me out of my stare. 

"Sorry," I say. "Um, you look good."

He smiles his usual cute smile, and I feel my pulse kick into high gear. I turn around to reach for the door to the diner, gesturing for him to go in first. 

"After you," I say. 

He graciously accept the offer and steps inside, starting down the stairs to get down into the diner. 

"I've never been here before," Cyrus tells me. 

"Really?" I respond. "I come here all the time with my friends. You'll like it. At least, I think you will."

He flashes me a grin over his shoulder before continuing down the stairs. At the bottom, the full diner comes into view. Tables and booths fill the space in the front, surrounded by walls covered in retro posters of old musicians and vintage Coca-Cola ads. At the back, two pools tables stand, one being used, while a couple of dart boards are hidden on the backside of the wall that sticks out a little to divide the front of the diner from the back. A red counter separates the customers from the kitchen, but the sound of pots clashing and knives chopping rings among the sound of chatter from the busy room. 

"I always go to The Spoon to eat," Cyrus says. 

"I used to go there a lot," I say, "but then my sister started working there, and now we basically eat nothing but baby taters every night, because she brings them home all the time, so I like having a change."

"Your sister works at The Spoon? What's her name?"

"Amber."

"Wait," he says, piecing something together in his head. "Does she know a girl named Andi?"

_Cyrus knows my sister's crush?_

"Yeah," I reply. "You know Andi?"

"She's my best friend," he explains. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow," I agree. 

Then he turns his attention to the tables around the diner.

"Where do you want to sit?" I ask him. 

I follow Cyrus over to a booth on the other side of the restaurant. He scoots into the seat across from me and immediately opens up his menu. I watch as his eyes scan the pages.

"See anything you like?" I ask. 

He peeks up at me over his menu with a grin. His nod makes my face heat up as I realize what he means, and he lets out a giggle. 

"What about you?" He asks back. "Anything you like?"

"Yeah, I think I found something," I reply.

He smiles and lowers his eyes back down to his menu, but, on the way, he catches sight of something behind me.

"There's a pool table?" he exclaims. 

"Yeah," I respond. "Do you want to play?"

"I would, but I don't know how," Cyrus replies. 

"Me neither," I say. "Wanna learn together?"

He grins and practically jumps out of his seat, grabbing me by the hand as he bolts toward the back of the diner, pulling me along behind him. When we get to the pool table, Cyrus immediately picks up a cue, and I take away the plastic triangle from the set of balls in the centre of the table that someone had left there. After sitting the triangle aside, I step around to where Cyrus is standing and place the white ball down in front of him. 

"Which one am I supposed to aim for?" Cyrus asks. 

"No clue," I respond. 

Cyrus laughs a little and raises the cue anyway. I wrap my arms around him to shadow his hold on the cue as he lines it up with the ball. 

Cyrus glances up at me with a smile, saying, "I appreciate the help playing pool from a guy who knows nothing about playing pool."

"I'm moral support," I say. 

He grins and turns his focus back to aiming the cue. Our arms move together to take the shot, knocking three balls into separate pockets. 

"Niceberg!" I exclaim. 

Cyrus chuckles, saying, "TJ, you don't know if that shot was good or not."

I shrug. "You did it, so it must be good."

"Inaccurate," he responds, "but still sweet."

He brings his hand up to my shoulder, and I put mine on his waist as he steps in to kiss me. It feels so normal already, like we were made to be together. His other hand comes up to touch the back of my neck, pulling me in deeper, and I manage to forget where we are until he drops back down from his tip toes, our lips parting. 

My eyes stay with his for a moment, but they're pulled away when I notice some familiar shapes in the corner of my vision. I look over to see Reed, Lester, Ross, and Daniel all descending the stairs into the diner. Instantly my body goes into flight mode, and I pull Cyrus' hand to bring him and I behind the wall by the dartboards to avoid being spotted. 

"What's wrong?" he questions. 

"Uh, let's play darts," I respond, trying my hardest to redirect his attention. 

I only lean over for a second to check to make sure my friends didn't see me, but it's long enough for Cyrus to notice and follow my gaze. 

"Oh," he says as he turns back to me. "You still haven't told them yet."

I nod, hating the way his smile has dissolved away. 

"Could I take you somewhere else?" I ask. 

"You don't want them to see you with me," he says as though reading my mind. He takes my silence as confirmation, saying, "Yeah. Um, I'll leave first to make it easier."

He steps away, doing a poor job at hiding the disappointment on his face. It burns to know I did that, and I just wish I could make it better somehow. 

"Cyrus—"

"It's okay," Cyrus cuts me off. "I'll meet you outside."

He turns and walks away, leaving me feeling unfinished. I feel like there's more I need to say, but I don't know what that is. My head seems to be pulling me in two different directions. One side, the logical side, tells me to let him go, because if my friends see me with him, they'll know I'm gay and that I like this boy, and they'll see me differently—everyone will. And I'm not sure if I'm ready for that. But the other side of my brain, the one that seems to have a close bond with my heart, begs me to run after Cyrus, to kiss him and announce to everyone here that I want to be his boyfriend, and that nothing else in the world matters if he's not with me. 

But that would be reckless, so instead I hold my breath as he slips out of sight, and I try to keep my feet from pulling me back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short. I likely won't update tomorrow, because my friend has a poetry thing, and I'm going to go to support them. Thanks for reading! I really wish I could have a beaver tail right now. I think I'll get one after work on Saturday. Uh, yeah. BTW, a beaver tail is a pastry, not meat. I'm a vegetarian, because I WANT TO SAVE THIS PLANET and also the animals, because the animals are my friends, and i don't eat my friends. Yeah, so bye!


	16. Secret

**Andi's POV**

 

All the details of Amber's house are the same—the television speakers still crackle whenever a sound louder than a normal talking voice plays out, there's still a half-read copy of an Oprah magazine lying on the coffee table, and the golden orange light still dangles too low from the ceiling—yet it feels so different. Maybe it's because I'm lying on the couch with Amber's arms around me this time, rather than just sitting next to each other. Or it could feel new because I'm now not afraid to weave her hand into mine and hold it next to my cheek. 

"I would definitely enter into the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Amber says as we watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire playing on the TV. 

"I would not," I state. "It just seems like a pointless way for someone to prove they're brave."

"You don't want to be brave?"

"I'm a Ravenclaw," I respond. "I don't need to be."

"My girlfriend is a Ravenclaw? I've only ever dated Slytherins, so this is a nice change."

I look up at her as I say, "Girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?" she copies, her eyes open in question as she checks to see if her statement is okay with me. 

I smile. "Your girlfriend is a Ravenclaw."

She grins, and I turn my eyes back to the TV, watching the scene where Harry eats the gillyweed and jumps into the water. 

"Cedrick was a Hufflepuff," Amber reminds me. "He did the tournament."

"You can do the tournament," I tell her. "I'll just support you from the sidelines."

"Like you'll do for every quidditch match."

"No offence, Amber," I say, "but I'd be shunned if I cheered for the Slytherins instead of my own house, even with my girlfriend on Slytherin's team."

"Okay, that's valid," Amber responds with a laugh. 

Right when Harry comes back up to the surface of the lake, the front door is pushed open, startling both Amber and I into sitting up. We relax again when we see that it's just her brother, whom I've seen in the photos around her house. 

"Oh, it's you," Amber says. 

He kicks off his shoes, looking gloomy as he walks over to see what we're watching. 

"How was your date?" Amber asks. 

"It was, um . . ." he pauses to consider his response, looking down at the floor. "I think I screwed things up with Cyrus."

"Cyrus?" I cut in. 

"Oh, yeah," Amber's brother responds. "He said he knew you."

"Wait, so you're TJ?"

He nods. "I'm Amber's brother."

"Oh," I respond. "That's a funny coincidence."

Amber gives me a smile before looking back to her brother. 

"So what happened with Cyrus?" Amber asks.

"Uh, can I talk to you in the kitchen?" he wonders. 

Amber nods then tells me, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Yeah, of course," I say. 

She gets up from the couch and follows TJ out of the living room. I reach for the remote on the coffee table and pause the movie. Right as I do, my phone rings out, and I see that Cyrus is video-calling the group chat with Buffy, Jonah and I. I answer, and the screen opens up to Cyrus' frown with his room as a background. Buffy and Jonah join in a second later, and the screen splits further. 

"What's up?" Jonah asks. 

"How was your date?" Buffy asks. 

"It was fine," Cyrus replies, but it's clear that he's holding something back. "I don't know."

"TJ said he thinks he did something wrong," I mention. 

"TJ told you that?" Jonah questions.

"He's Amber's brother," I explain.

"He didn't do anything wrong," Cyrus corrects. "Well, I don't know. We went to this place, and his friends showed up, and he immediately wanted to leave. I shouldn't be so upset about it, but it just feels kinda bad when he's constantly trying to hide me from his friends. It's like he's ashamed by me."

"Cyrus," I say, "he seems to feel pretty bad about it too. Maybe just try talking to him."

"I have," Cyrus replies. "It never gets anywhere. He's too scared of what his friends will think of him being gay and being with me, and I get it. I do. But I hate being this secret he needs to hide."

"Well, remember," Buffy says, "if he breaks your heart, you just say the word, and I'll teach him why he shouldn't mess with my best friend."

"Thanks, Buffy, but it's okay," Cyrus responds. "I just don't know how long he's planning to hide me from everyone."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I guess I'm really lucky that Amber isn't doing everything she can to keep me a secret from her friends."

"Yeah," Cyrus says. "How was your date, anyway?"

"It was good," I answer.

I feel a little guilty about bringing up my good night when Cyrus had such a bad one. 

"That's great," Cyrus says. "I'm happy for you."

He smiles, but his eyes look so sad that I can't smile back. 

"You don't have to pretend to be happy," I tell him. 

"Andi, I'm honestly happy for you," he assures me. "I can be happy for you and sad for myself at the same time."

"Hey, sorry, guys," Jonah interrupts. "I've gotta go."

"Yeah, that's fine," Cyrus responds. "I'm actually kind of tired too, so I'll see you guys on Monday."

"Okay," Buffy says, her eyes looking just as concerned for our friend as I am. "Text me if you need anything."

"Same goes for me," I agree.

Cyrus gives us a smile and taps his phone, making his screen of the picture disappear, leaving just Buffy and I.

"Do you think TJ's going to hurt him?" Buffy asks. 

I glance back at the doorway to the kitchen where the distressed boy went in the talk to his sister.

"I don't know," I reply. "If he does, I don't think it will be on purpose."

"I hope not," Buffy responds. 

"Yeah," I agree, "me too."

_________________________________________

**TJ's POV**

 

While the basketball bounces back to me after passing through the net, I see a figure in the doorway and look over to see Cyrus watching me. I smile at him, expecting him to come over right away, but instead he takes a minute to glance over somewhere else and consider it before entering the gym. That second of hesitation makes me nervous as he approaches me with a smile which looks less bright than usual. 

"Hey," I say. "What's going on?"

"Not much," Cyrus replies. "You're practicing again?"

"It tends to help me sort through my thoughts," I explain. 

I came here to think about what Amber said last night when I talked to her about Cyrus. She said that if I want to be with him, then I need to start putting him first. But my friends don't even think I should be talking to Cyrus, let alone dating him. I do want to let Cyrus know how much I care about him, but I don't want my friends seeing me with him. They could all turn against me because I'm friends with this boy whom they think shouldn't associate with us. I've been friends with them since elementary school. I don't know what I'd do if I suddenly lost my place in that group.

"I see," Cyrus responds. "Any chance we could talk?"

At that instant, I hear the familiar voices of some guys I know, and I look past Cyrus' head to see some of my friends talking outside the doorway. My blood goes cold in fear when I realize they're glancing between me and each other while they talk. Cyrus turns back to see what's drained the colour from my face, and then he returns his eyes to me, his faint smile completely wiped away from his face. 

"Yeah," he says, not even waiting for me to process what's happening, "I'll leave."

He takes off past me, and my eyes follow him as he speed-walks toward one of the far doors. 

"No, Cyrus . . ."

He's already gone before I can finish what I was about to say.  _What was I about to say?_ I wanted to ask him to stay, but I know I couldn't do that. It just doesn't feel right seeing him go. 

As the door behind him falls shut, the footsteps of my friends patter into the gym, and I spin back around to see them coming up to me. Unlike usual, they don't look so carefree and cool. They actually seem stressed, and the first words that come out of Reed's mouth let me know why.

"You'll never guess what Chloe just told us," he starts. "She said the reason you two didn't go out was because you have a boyfriend already."

My entire body tenses up, and I feel my arm squeeze the basketball under it even tighter, as if bracing for a bomb to fall. 

"That's weird," I respond, trying to act surprised. 

"Dude, is she right?" Lester interrogates. "Are you gay?"

_How do I answer that? I'm not ready for them to know. I'm not ready for everything to change._

"I, um—"

"Is it that nerd you were hanging around?" Ross interrupts. "That, um . . ."

"Cyrus," Reed finishes for him. "Is it him? Are you gay for him or something?"

"No, no!" I snap. "Look, Cyrus is nobody. He's just some kid who talks to me. That's it."

The lie burns like bleach in my throat, but it seems to convince my friends not to push any further. 

"Okay," Lester says. "Sorry we doubted you. You just seem a little off lately."

"No," I respond, "I'm not. Don't worry."

"Good," Lester says. "We'll leave you to practice, then."

Him and the rest of the guys depart from the room, going back in the direction from which they came. As they blend into the crowd of teenagers in the hallway, I let out a breath and turn back to the basketball net to continue practicing my throws. But my eyes don't go to the net. Instead, they fall onto the brown-haired boy staring at me in the doorway, his watery eyes holding an expression like he's just been torn to shreds. The instant our eyes connect, he darts away. 

I run to the doorway, calling out, "Cyrus!"

When I get to the hall and find nothing but a few kids whose eyes have turned to me as I frantically scan my surroundings for any sight of the boy, that's when I know for sure that I fucked up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I was going to post this last night, but I was tired, so I decided instead to waste twenty minutes to read it over in the morning and update before work today. I probably won't have an update tonight, because my cousins are coming over, but ima try to have one for tomorrow. Love y'all. Bye!


	17. Now You Have

**Cyrus' POV**

 

The door to the stairwell flies open, and Jonah rushes in. Buffy, Andi and I all sit on the floor in the corner, tucked underneath the shadow of the stairs which ascend out above us. This space between the walls and the underside of the stairs is the perfect place to come to vent about everything that just happened, and two of my friends have been listening thoughtfully for me to pour out everything I have. 

"Where have you been?" Buffy asks Jonah. "We texted you fifteen minutes ago."

"Sorry," Jonah says as he lowers down next to Buffy. "I was with Walker and wasn't checking my phone."

"You were with walker?" I repeat. "And you were so into whatever you two were doing that you weren't checking your phone?"

Jonah nods, looking uncomfortable with the subject, so I move on and decide instead to explain again everything that happened with TJ in the gym. The whole time, Jonah silently takes it in. 

"He said you were nothing?" Jonah says when I'm finished. 

I nod. "Yeah. Nothing."

"I knew he was going to hurt you," Buffy mutters.

"You couldn't know," I tell her. "I didn't. I thought he really liked me on Saturday when we were playing pool, and he kissed me. Well, I guess I kissed him." I sigh. "Maybe I am nothing. Maybe he decided I wasn't good enough for him or something."

"Cyrus, you are definitely enough," Andi says. "You're better than enough. TJ doesn't deserve you."

"Thanks, Andi," I respond. Then I let out a laugh, thinking back on the situation. "Neither of us knew anything about pool, but he put his arms around me to guide me anyway. I thought it meant something."

"Walker's really good at pool," Jonah mentions, smiling to himself. 

Buffy is both surprised and confused as she whips her heads to face Jonah. 

"When did you two hang out?" she questions. 

"Yesterday," Jonah answers. "We went to the same place that TJ and Cyrus did."

"Jonah," I say, getting his attention before making a serious request of him. "If you like Walker, stop pretending you don't and just ask him out. Don't make him wonder whether or not you like him."

I don't want Jonah to do the same thing to Walker that TJ's doing to me. I want Jonah to be better than that. 

Jonah laughs awkwardly as he says, "Yeah. I, um . . . Yeah, okay."

At his vague response, Buffy and Andi turn their attention back to me. 

"Stop wasting your time with TJ," Buffy says. 

"I'm with Buffy, here," Andi agrees. "I know he's my girlfriend's brother and all, but he clearly doesn't know what he wants. If you stay hung up on him, it's just going to end up with you getting hurt even more."

"I know," I say, not sounding anywhere near sure enough to convince Buffy and Andi. 

"But you're not going to listen to us, are you?" Buffy responds. 

"I don't know," I admit. "I shouldn't care so much, but I do. He takes up way too much space in my head and certainly causes me more stress than I need, but I still really like him."

Buffy sighs. "You're too soft."

"You know, you should try being soft sometime," I argue. "Maybe if you showed a little vulnerability, you'd have a boyfriend by now."

"That's assuming I don't already have one," Buffy scoffs. 

"No way!" Andi reacts. "Is it Marty?"

"Yes," Buffy replies.

Andi and I both share a glance before letting out high-pitched squeals that make Jonah chuckle. 

"Relax," Buffy says. "It's nothing major."

"Buffy, this is your first boyfriend," I tell her. "This is everything major!"

Her face cracks into a small grin. "Okay, yeah, it's big."

Andi and I squeal again, excited for our friend, and I think about how ironic this all is. I was the first one to meet a person I thought I could fall for, but I'm probably going to be the last one to actually make things official. Maybe They're right. I should just forget about TJ and move on. Too bad that's easier said than done. 

________________________________________

I've never been in the art room before now. I never had to. But now that I'm there, I'm seeing kids whom I never knew existed until now. I wonder if they ever leave this room, because I swear I've never once seen any of them around the school. The more regular looking students work separately at the front of the room, while a group of teens in head-to-toe black with coloured hair cluster together at the back. Actually, Andi's hair reminds me of theirs. 

Andi and I share a small plate of glue as we both stick tiny fake minerals onto a styrofoam ball. Andi said it's going to be a sun, but I don't quite see it yet with just a bunch of yellow rocks on it. She's planning to put more things on it, but she just wants me to help with glueing rocks on for now. She thinks this will help get my mind off of TJ, which it actually sort of is. 

Amber, whom I'd never formally met until now, paints at an easel near our table, glancing over to compliment Andi's handiwork every once in a while, which always leads to them being caught in each other's stare for a little longer than normal. The only reason I haven't completely forgotten about my complicated boy of questionable status is because his sister is right here, and her and my best friend are failing miserably at keeping their relationship on the down low, but unlike TJ, they're not actually trying to do that. 

"Have I mentioned how incredibly talented you are?" Amber asks Andi. 

"Once or twice," Andi responds. 

Amber and Andi giggle together before Amber leaves to return to her painting. Right as Andi's about to get back to work, someone else approaches on my right and inspects my craftsmanship.

His caramel-coloured hair is shiny, rising up and falling over on the right side of his head. It reminds me of TJ's a bit. The difference is that this boy's hair is neater, more precise. Splashes of paint colour his pale blue sweatshirt, even getting on his jeans. His eyes are what ultimately draw me in. They're a vibrant blue, easy to spot from a mile away, nothing like TJ's subtle green ones which you have to get close to notice. 

"This is really cool," the boy says to me.

"Thanks," I respond, giving him a smile, "but I'm only helping. My friend is the one actually making this."

The boy glances over to Andi and gives her a nod of acknowledgement. 

"Hi, Caleb," Andi says. "Cyrus, this is Caleb, Amber's and my friend."

"It's nice to meet you, Cyrus," Caleb says. 

He extends a hand out to shake mine, which is something TJ would never do, and I kind of like the respectful gesture. 

"You too," I respond. 

"Hey, Andi," he says, "since he's just helping you, any chance I could steal him for a bit to help me with my assignment?"

Andi's face immediately lights up, looking as though she really wants to get rid of me, which confuses me. 

"Yes, go ahead," Andi replies cheerfully. 

I look to Andi, asking, "Are you sure you don't need my help?"

Her eyes are wide and certain as she tries to get a point across, saying, "Yes. You should definitely help him. You can even get to know him."

I suddenly realize what she's trying to do, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Yes, I do want to get my mind off TJ, but I didn't think I'd be doing that by trying to transfer it onto another guy. But I'm not going to argue with Andi, because I figure she might be right in this instance. I mean, Caleb is really cute. 

I shift my eyes back to the boy, saying, "Okay."

Caleb smiles and steps over to where he has his own drawing board set up. He takes a seat on the stool at it, and I walk up to the other side of the board from him. 

"What do you need me to do?" I inquire. 

"I need a model for figure drawing," he explains. 

"A model?"

Caleb raises his eyebrows as he gives me a suave smile. "Are you okay with that?"

"Are you kidding?" I respond. "I've been waiting for my big break for fourteen years. What do you need me to do as your model?"

Caleb chuckles, replying, "Strike a pose."

I instantly go for the first thing that comes to mind, which also happens to be the cheesiest. I put my hand on my hip and extend my other up in a disco-type move. Both Caleb and I let out laughter as he picks up a stick of graphite and begins sketching the lines. 

"Perfect," Caleb comments as he draws. Then he attempts to start conversation, asking, "Other than helping Andi with her project, do you do any art?"

"Not this kind," I answer. "Not any kind, really. I tried writing a screenplay once in middle school. but that didn't work out."

"You didn't like it?" 

"The plot was extremely hard to follow and made little sense," I explain. 

"Yeah. I never got into theatre," Caleb says. "I'm not very good in front of an audience."

"I feel that way about being in front of a camera," I respond.

He smiles again as he pauses for a second before asking his next question. "Other than Andi, are you friends with any other artists?"

"I knew this one kid named Walker, but we were never really friends," I respond. 

"Have you ever been asked out by an artist before?"

The build-up should've let me know that the question was coming, but somehow I'm still caught off guard. Since meeting TJ, I've only ever imagined myself with him. No one else. It wouldn't be a bad thing for me to move on. Most kids date several people in high school. It's unrealistic for me to think that the boy who stole my heart on the second week of grade nine would be the boy I end up with. The problem is that that boy, as much as he stresses me out, still has the heart he stole from me. 

"I have not," I reply to the question. 

Caleb grins a little as he says, "Now you have."

 

**TJ's POV**

 

_Did I just hear that? Did another guy just ask Cyrus out?_

I step out of the doorway to the art room and lean against the nearby lockers, trying to let my head calm down, but it seems impossible. I came here on my search for Cyrus, and I found him with another boy, a really attractive, tall boy with a charming smile. 

 _That's it. I lost Cyrus._  I should never have let myself fall for him in the first place. But, in all fairness, I never thought I would ever feel something for a boy like him. He's a piece that doesn't fit into any place in my life right now, but I so badly want him to.

All of a sudden, I see Cyrus step out into the hallway. He looks surprised when he sees me, so he must not have known that I was here. 

"TJ?" Cyrus says. 

"Oh, hey," I respond. 

"Why are you here?" Cyrus asks. 

"I was—I was trying to find you, but then I did, and I noticed you were busy with someone else, so . . . yeah. Uh, I hope it works out. He seems cool."

The expression of Cyrus' face is a mixture of exhaustion and concern. 

"He's just a guy," Cyrus explains. 

"Oh, I thought . . . never mind."

"You thought I was interested in him?" 

I nod. 

"Well, why shouldn't I be?" he asks. "I don't have a boyfriend, and he did ask me out."

I don't know how to respond. I just feel like an idiot. Why would I ever think that I deserved someone like Cyrus? All I've done is cause him to question how I feel about him every second. 

"Oh," I mutter, my eyes falling to the ground in disappointment. 

Cyrus lets out a sigh of annoyance. "TJ, I said no."

"What?" I ask, looking back up at him in surprise. 

"But that's just because I can't get you out of my stupid head!" he complains. "I still don't understand why you won't let people know that we know each other!"

How is this possible? How can a boy as amazing as Cyrus Goodman be hung up over someone like me? What could he possibly see in me? He must see something, something I haven't noticed yet, because he's far too smart to fall for someone who he knows is trouble. 

"Cyrus," I say, "I don't know what to do. My friends don't think I should even talk to you."

"TJ, I'm not an accessory that you can just get rid of when you don't want it," Cyrus asserts. "I'm a person. If you want to be with me, then you're with me." I stay silent, unsure how to respond, so he continues, saying, "I'm not saying you have to tell your friends that you like me. I just hate it when you pretend you don't know me when they're around."

"I know," I respond. "I just . . . I'll tell them."

"Great," Cyrus says, his tone stern, and his face still stone cold. "Let me know when you have."

He spins around and strides away, leaving me alone with the anxiety of the promise I just made. I just told my friends Cyrus was nothing to me. How do admit that I was lying without telling them why? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've got to go to work now, but this was fun. I hope this was worth the wait. Sorry it took a while. It's a long chapter. Thanks for reading! I love y'all. See you soon!


	18. Where Were You?

**Cyrus' POV**

 

Jonah and I walk together to Andi's house. Buffy isn't here, because she's on a date with Marty, which she promised to tell us all about afterward. We're just going to get Andi so that we can all walk to The Spoon together. I really like these times when it's just Jonah and I, because they're the only times when he really opens up. Although pretty extroverted, he tends to hold off on sharing the details about his life that I like to hear, such as how he's going on and on about Walker right now. 

"And then he lent me his jacket," Jonah says, "and . . . Wow, how did I think I was straight for 14 years?"

I chuckle along with him as we walk. 

"That sounds like a date to me," I respond. "So did you tell him how you feel?"

"I did," Jonah replies, "and he likes me too, and, oh, yeah, we kissed."

"Jonah!" I shout. "That's not something you just casually add in. 'Oh, yeah, we kissed.'"

"Oh, because 'and I'm gay' is so much better," Jonah counters with a laugh. "How are you and TJ anyway?"

"He hasn't spoken to me since this morning," I answer. 

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," Jonah says. 

"It's okay," I respond. "I'm just looking forward to hanging out with my best friends and not having to think about him at all."

Andi's apartment comes up on our left, and Jonah and I step up to the door. Jonah knocks, and Bex greets us with a smile. 

"Hey, guys. Andi's just in the washroom," Bex explains. "She'll be out in a minute."

"Thanks, Bex," I respond. 

"Jonah, how is your cousin liking being back?" Bex asks. 

I glance at Jonah, confused as to what Bex is talking about, but Jonah looks just as puzzled. 

"My cousin?" he repeats. 

"Yeah," Bex goes on. "The one who you had the welcome back party for."

"Uh, I think you might be mixing me up with someone else," Jonah suggests. "All my cousins live in Maine, and I'm pretty sure they're all still there."

"What?" Bex responds. "But Andi said . . ."

Suddenly, a bang sounds from inside, and Bex turns around to see her daughter picking up the book that she just accidentally knocked off the back of a chair as she was trying to make a quiet retreat. 

"Andi?" Bex says with a confused expression. 

"Uh, we'll leave you two to talk," I say. "This seems like a family matter."

 

**Andi's POV**

 

My mom closes the door as Cyrus and Jonah vanish from the doorway. Then she spins around, folding her arms over her chest. 

"So there was no welcome home party," Bex states. "Where were you on Friday?"

My thundering pulse hits my lungs, making my breath tighten up. I never really thought this through very well. All I was thinking about was doing anything to be able to see Amber. I should've at the very least told Jonah about my lie so that he could play along. 

"I was, um . . . I was at a different party," I confess. 

"A different party," Bex echoes. "Like, an actual high school party? Was there alcohol at this party?"

"Yes, but I didn't drink anything," I frantically respond. "I promise."

"Well, I'm glad you were responsible enough with that, but you should've told me and Bowie where you were going."

"Would you have let me go?" I argue.

"No! No, definitely not. Parties can be dangerous."

"This one was pretty tame," I defend. 

"But what if it wasn't?" Bex counters. "Andi, I used to go to these things when I was your age, and there were some times when I definitely should not have been there."

"Okay!" I shout back, annoyed. 

"Wait, if your friends didn't even know about your lie, then who did you go with?" Suddenly the realization hits her. "It was that blue-haired girl, Amber. I knew she was a bad influence the moment I saw her. I should've trusted my instincts."

"Please don't be mad at her!" I beg. "I really like her."  _More than you could know._

My mom wouldn't have a problem with me liking a girl. The problem is that I like this girl. Bex is freaking out over me being friends with her. She would certainly not be okay with me dating her. 

"Andi, I used to have friends like that—"

"You don't know what she's like!"

"I was like her, and I ended up doing some pretty bad stuff."

"Well, I'm not you!" I argue. 

"No, you're not," Bex agrees, "and I want you to stay like that. I don't want you seeing this girl anymore."

I want to fight back, but I don't know how. How do I tell her that I like Amber more than I've ever liked a person before? How do I explain that Amber isn't just another girl I know? How do I tell my mom that I think I could fall in love with this girl if given the chance?

"Fine," I grumble, and then I stomp off to my room and close the door before letting the tears flow. 

_________________________________________

I stab the wooden skewers in between the stones on my art piece. I'm going to use these to create rays for my sun, but for now, they just stick out obnoxiously, creating a hazard for anyone who walks by. I spent the majority of last night crying, and I'm all drained out today. My friends asked me about my mood this morning, but I didn't have the energy to explain. I haven't even seen Amber yet, but I'm really not looking forward to trying to tell her that we can't see each other outside of school anymore. 

After working on my project for a few minutes, the flash of neon captures my attention, and I look over to see my girlfriend entering the art room. Immediately, she comes over to me and puts her hand on my shoulder as she takes a look at my sculpture. 

"It's looking good," she comments. 

"Thanks," I respond. 

"I have a question for you," she states. 

"Ask away."

"Wanna go out after school? I just got a paycheque, and I'd love to spend it on doing something fun."

"I would," I say, "but I can't."

She takes her hand away from my shoulder.

"Oh," she responds. "Tomorrow?"

"No," I reply. 

She steps back, a look of concern on her face, as I set down my art supplies and turn to face her. 

"Amber, my mom doesn't want me seeing you."

My words render her speechless for a moment until she finally says nothing more than, "Oh."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I really like you, and I really want to keep being your girlfriend—"

"Andi," she cuts me off, "it's not your fault."

"I know, but this makes it a lot harder. I'd understand if you want to break up with me."

She steps up and takes my hand in hers, squeezing it tight. 

"I'm not going to break up with you just because your mom doesn't like us being together."

"She doesn't actually know we're together," I explain. "But she doesn't want me being friends with you. She thinks you're a bad influence."

She frowns, shaking her head. "That's stupid. I know I'm not an angel or anything, but I would never make you do anything you don't want to do."

"I know," I agree. "I tried talking to my mom, but she won't listen."

"This isn't fair," Amber states, her eyes revealing her anger like a low-burning flame ready to char the entire room. 

"I can try talking to her again," I say, "but only when she gets home from work."

"Where does she work?"

"It's this place called Cloud 10," I answer. "Anyway, maybe she'll be more open to listening to me tonight."

"Yeah," Amber says, her eyes falling down to our connected hands. "Maybe."

________________________________________

**Amber's POV**

 

I walk down the sidewalk toward The Spoon to pick up some baby taters for my brother and I. He's been really mopey over Cyrus lately, and I'm hoping to cheer him up with some baby taters and a movie.

On the way there, I notice a shop on my right, and I realize I recognize the name. I peek in through the window of Cloud 10 and see the woman I recognize as Andi's mother along with another with an older woman working behind the till. I wasn't planning on going in, but seeing her reignites the anger inside me, and I find myself whipping open the door. 

I don't know what I'm going to say, but I just need to say something. I need her to know how much I care about her daughter and that I would never want to hurt her in any way. I need her to know that she can trust me. 

Andi's mom spins to me, and I start talking before she can even process who I am.

"Look," I say, "I know you don't like me, and I know I'm not exactly a star student, but I really care about your daughter. I would never let anything bad happen to her, and I would never pressure her to do anything she doesn't want to do."

The older woman with the short hair glances between Andi's mom and I, her face showing her confusion. Andi's mom just stares at me, clearly at a loss for words.

"Andi means so much to me," I confess. "I only ever want to make her happy. I promise I won't bring her to another party, and I'll keep her out of any stupid ideas I have. Just please don't keep her from me."

I feel empty, like everything I have has been poured out onto the floor, and now I just have to wait for someone to pick it up. 

The short-haired lady is the first one to speak, asking, "Bex, who is this?"

"This is Amber," Andi's mom replies, her eyes still on me as though trying to read my thoughts.

"I'm Andi's friend," I add. 

"Just her friend?" Andi's mom checks. 

The question scares me. I didn't even think to hold anything back, but I now realize that I should have. I didn't mean to let Andi's mom know about my true relationship with Andi. I just didn't even consider toning down my emotions when talking to her. 

I nod, trying not to shake with my nerves and let Andi's mom know that I'm lying. 

Andi's mom tilts her head, not believing me, and asks, "You sure that's all?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to write, but oh well. I added my friend's name to his famous sister's biography on every website I could, because my friend it (in my opinion) more noteworthy. Uh, I got matching tattoos (semi-permanent ones) with my friend yesterday. I also am going to try to write another chapter today, but we'll see how that goes. Thanks for reading! I love you all! Bye!


	19. All Better

**Amber's POV**

 

"Um . . ." I say as I take a step backward. "I've got to go."

I start to turn around, but Andi's mom's voice causes me to halt and look back at her. 

"Amber, wait." She gives a glance to the woman beside her before bringing her eyes back to me. "You seem like you really care about Andi."

"I do," I admit. 

"Just don't do anything dumb, okay?"

I smile, feeling my chest expand freely as I take in a breath. "Okay."

I spin around and depart out of the shop, turning back onto the street to continue toward The Spoon. I'm lucky that Andi's mom didn't ask me any more questions. She seems like she'd accept her pansexual daughter in a heartbeat, but I still feel guilty that I might've just accidentally stolen from Andi the chance to come out to her mother on her own. 

When I reach the diner, I pull the door open and hear the chime. Although my intention was to just get baby taters then leave, I see Andi sitting with her friends in a booth, and I don't want to let her hear about what I said to her mother from anyone other than me. I'd rather just get that over with now, so I change routes and head over to her table. 

"Andi," I say. 

"Amber," she responds as she notices me. "What's up?"

She seems tense, and her nervous eyes keep flicking back to her friends. 

"I need to talk to you," I say. 

"Uh, yeah, of course. Outside?"

I nod, and she slides out of the booth before following me outside, leaving Buffy, Cyrus and Jonah behind. The wind blows my hair in front of my eyes as I try to look at her, so I have to pull it all over to one side to keep it out of the way. Andi notices how I'm avoiding her eyes, and she uses that as a reason to latch her hand with mine. Usually her touch settles my nerves, but right now it just makes me feel guilty.  

"I think I might've accidentally given your mom the impression that we're more than friends," I blurt. 

Andi's eyes go wide. "How—?"

"I may have tried to talk to her, and I may have said a little too much, and I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Andi tells me. "I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

She shakes her head, a soft smile on her face. "No. How could I be mad that you care enough to try to convince my mom to let me see you?"

"Honestly, it was more me being selfish," I admit. "I just hated the idea of not being able to see you, but I I think it actually worked, and she doesn't hate me anymore."

"That's great!"

"But now I think she knows that we're together or at least that I like you, and I just feel horrible, because I basically came out for you, and I'm just really sorry. I didn't mean to—"

She scatters the rest of my words by kissing me the way I did the last time she was nervous rambling. Her lips on mine relieves my stress, reducing my worry to a low simmer rather than a full flame. She somehow snuffs out that fire, replacing it with a tender warmth that pumps out into my veins with each heartbeat she gives me.

When her lips let me go, my eyes stay closed for a second longer, eventually opening to Andi's smiling face. 

"All better?" Andi asks. 

I laugh a little as I answer, "All better."

________________________________________

**TJ's POV**

 

Billiard balls clack from the table behind the booth where I sit down across from Reed and Lester in the restaurant. I asked them to come here with me after school with the intention to tell them that I'm gay. I thought it'd be easier to just tell them first, since they've been my friends longer than anyone else, but seeing them has stripped away a lot of that confidence that I had. 

After the server comes by to bring us menus and glasses of water, Lester tosses his jacket down on the bench beside Reed and stands up.

"I'm gonna go to the washroom," Lester says.

"Have fun," Reed responds.

Lester ignores the sarcastic comment, leaving Reed and I alone at the table. I attempt to find some words in my head to start a light conversation, but Reed beats me to it.

"Can I ask for your opinion on something?"

"Sure," I reply.

I fully expect it to be something stupid like whether the toilet paper roll should go over or under, so I'm surprised when he says something with actual meaning. 

"I was asked out today," he says. 

"Cool," I respond. "What's her name?"

"That's what I wanted your opinion on," he says. "It's a guy."

"Oh." I let out a chuckle, trying not to sound so awkward. "That's weird."

"Nah. Actually, I said yes," Reed replies. 

I'm glad I'm not eating yet, because I surely would've choked on my food if I were. _Since when does Reed like guys? Is this some kind of prank to make him feel bad? Or is he actually interested in this boy?_

"That's great," I say. "What's his name?"

"Caleb," Reed answers. "I met him in an English seminar, and we just kinda clicked."

"I didn't realize you liked guys," I say. 

"Yeah, I've known for a few years," Reed admits. "I just never told you guys, 'cause I guess I thought you'd be creeped out."

"I'm not," I assure him. "Um, actually, I wanted to tell you something too."

Reed opens his mouth into a grin as he leans back in his seat. 

"Don't tell me you were lying on Monday, and you really are gay."

I take in a breath, letting it out as I confess, "I was lying on Monday, and I really am gay."

"Dude—" Reed reaches over the table to give me a friendly punch to the shoulder "—why'd you lie?"

"Because I also lied about Cyrus," I explain. "I do like him in a more than friends way."

Reed sighs. "If you'd told me this on Monday, I would've cared a bit more that you're into someone who really doesn't run with our crowd, but now I'm going out with an artist, so I really can't say anything."

"Aren't you worried that the guys won't like Caleb?" I ask. 

"Yup." Reed picks up his water glass and lifts it up. "Here's to not dating athletic girls like everyone else we hang with."

I clink my cup against his then take a sip. As I set down my glass, my other friend rejoins us in the booth. 

"What are you toasting to?" he asks. 

Reed and I share a glance, both of us looking hesitant to answer. 

"Uh, we both like dudes," I eventually reply, "and we both have specific dudes we like."

"Cool," Lester says. 

He's about to take a sip from his water but sets the cup back down when he realizes that Reed and I are both still staring at him in disbelief. 

"Did you know?" Reed asks.

"Reed, every time you see a hot guy, you always point it out," Lester responds. "There's only so many times you can say 'no homo' before it loses meaning. TJ was less obvious than you."

I laugh at that, feeling the pressure lift from my shoulders, but some of the weight is still there, because I still have a bunch of other people to come out to. 

"How am I going to tell the rest of the guys?" I wonder. 

"They'll be fine with it," Lester says. "They couldn't care less that you're gay."

"But it's Cyrus," I explain. "I want to be with him, and I don't want the guys to keep bothering me about it. How do I get them to understand how much he means to me?"

"Have you ever seen High School Musical?" Lester asks. 

I nod, curious as to where he's going with this.

"Well, if there's one thing that movie taught me," he says, "it's that nothing changes minds like the power of a kid with a microphone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, and I want to sleep, but I also want to read your comments, so please don't hesitate to leave them. I like interacting with other humans. Anyway, have a good night. Thank you for reading!


	20. You Are Funny

**Andi's POV**

 

I take a moment to phrase how I'm going to say this to my parents before touching the doorknob.  _Mom, Dad, I'm pan, and Amber's not my friend. She's my girlfriend._  It sounds so simple in my head. That's why I'm so surprised that when I open the door to reveal my parents sitting together on the couch with books, I suddenly become incapable of getting my voice to work. 

"Hey, Andi," Mom says. "Doing okay?"

I nod, my mouth still too dry to communicate. I guess it's true that whether or not you know someone will accept you, telling someone that they were wrong about you is difficult, especially when it's your parents. They probably have this whole idea of how my life is going to go, and I'm about to challenge that. 

"You sure?" Dad asks. "You seem a little stressed."

 _Why are they doing this? Bex must have told Bowie about what Amber said to her, and there's no way that my mom just brushed it off._ As annoying as it can be sometimes, she loves to get into other people's business, and mine is no exception, so I find it hard to believe that she's not gnawing on Amber's words, waiting for the right moment to bring them up. 

"So your friend, Amber, showed up at Cloud 10 today," my mom says.

"Yeah, um, about that . . ." I begin.

I walk around to sit down in the seat across the room from my parents. 

My words come out as stuttering starts of unfinished sentences. "She's—um—I'm—uh."

Bex helps me out, leading my thought in by saying, "She's . . .?"

"My girlfriend," I finish for her. 

My hands feel prickly with nerves, so I bend them backward, playing with my own fingers to try to take my focus away from my throbbing pulse. My parents share a glance, not even trying to look surprised.

"She's your girlfriend," my dad repeats. 

I nod. 

"And you're . . .?" Bex starts. 

"Pan," I answer. "Pansexual. Yeah."

Bex smiles as she gets up off the couch and makes her way over to join me on the armrest of my cushioned seat. Bowie does the same, taking the other side, and they close me in from all angles as they hug me. 

"Your girlfriend has no filter," Mom says as she releases me. "She really cares about you, and she was not trying to hide the extent of her feelings at all."

"That's one of the things I like about her," I confess, smiling to myself. 

"Yeah, I don't mind it," Mom responds. 

"Does that mean you'll let me see her?" I ask hopefully. 

Bex sighs, looking down at me to explain, "I told you I didn't want you to be friends with her because I thought she'd cause you to make some of the stupid choices that I did in high school. But after talking to her, I think she has your best interests in mind."

"That doesn't mean we trust everything she does, though," Dad adds on. "We're trusting that you'll keep her in line."

"Yes, of course," I respond. "I'll make sure she doesn't do anything like start any fires—any more fires." I quickly shake off that thought, saying instead, "You can trust me."

It wasn't a big fire, and I wasn't there for it. Amber mentioned once that she accidentally lit a learning guide on fire when she and Iris tried to light birthday candles on a cake in the Learning commons for Caleb's birthday. I don't even think she got in trouble for it, because she managed to put out the fire before the teacher came by. I doubt she ever returned that learning guide to the library.

"I'll just ignore the fire thing," my mom says, trying not to look concerned. "You know I love you, and I only want what's best for you. I'm sorry if I was so stubborn that you felt like you couldn't talk to me."

"Thanks," I say. "And I'm sorry for lying. I should've believed that you'd be okay with me and everything about her and I."

"You never have to worry about telling us who you are," Dad tells me. "We're learning about you the same way you're learning about yourself. I'm going to be happy with whoever you turn out to be."

"As long as it's not a wanted criminal," I add on. 

"Yeah, don't be that," Bowie says with a laugh. 

I smile and reach out to pull my parents back into a hug again. I don't know why I was so scared to say everything I just did. I'm so lucky to have the parents I do. I wish Amber's parents could be like mine too, but I know she's going to have a harder time coming out to them than I did to mine, and I'll be with her all the way until she tells them and hopefully long after. 

_________________________________________

**Cyrus' POV**

 

I walk down the hall toward the stairwell, intending to go straight to the library to sign out a book for the science unit I'm working on, but on my way there, I'm stopped by a boy I recognize. I'd know that face anywhere. I've had to avoid it so many times now that it's impossible for me not to know who he is. 

TJ's friend points in my direction as he says, "You're that Cyrus kid, right?"

I immediately wonder how much I should say and if TJ's admitted to us being—well—whatever we are yet. 

"Um . . . yeah," I respond. 

"Cool," the blonde boy says, leaning against the railing of the stairs behind him which I've just descended. "TJ's mentioned you."

"TJ talks about me?" I say in surprise. "Wow, I've never had people care about me enough to talk about me behind my back before."

The boy lets out a chuckle. "TJ was right. You are funny."

"He said I was funny?"

"Yeah. He's said a lot about you," the boy replies. "I'm Reed, by the way."

"I would say I'm Cyrus, but you already know that."

"Yeah. I've heard too much about you from TJ to forget that," Reed says with a laugh. "You know, he really likes you."

Hearing that from someone else is a confirmation I didn't realize I needed. It makes me feel bad for pushing TJ to either go all in or let me go, but I still can't feel guilty for having limitations on how far I'm willing to stretch to make a relationship work. I do believe he needs to try harder, and it seems like he is, because here is his friend who now not only knows that TJ and I are connected, but he's also telling me that TJ really likes me. TJ's said to Reed that he really likes me. 

"Yeah," I breathe. "I like him a lot too."

"That's good," Reed says, "because he has a basketball game after school today, and I think you should go."

The only times when I've ever gone to sporting events were to Buffy's basketball games and Jonah and Andi's ultimate Frisbee games. I would expect it to feel weird watching someone who's not part of the Good Hair Crew playing a sport, but, as soon as I picture TJ in a jersey, I start to think that going might be a good idea. Now I just need to make sure that I don't completely melt when I see him again after three days of trying to pretend he doesn't exist. 

"Is there any particular reason?" I ask. 

"I can't say too much," Reed answers, "but believe me when I say you'll want to be there."

I don't know what he's talking about, but I'm too curious to deny the request. I wasn't going to deny it anyway, though. I think my heart has been waiting for a good excuse to see TJ again, and this is it. 

"Okay," I say. "I'll be there."

_________________________________________

**TJ's POV**

 

The game is going to start any minute now, but I'm out in the hall, waiting for Reed and Lester to show up to make sure everything will go as planned. I can hear buzz of the crowd as they sit impatiently in the bleachers, and, through the window in the door,  I can see my teammates talking and glancing over at our rivals. They're probably wondering where I am, because I told them I'd be back in one minute, yet I've been out here for at least five. 

Finally, I hear the slamming of footsteps, and I spin around to see Lester and Reed rushing over to me. 

"What took so long?" I question. 

"The door to the room was locked, so Reed had to pick it," Lester explains. 

Reed grins. "I got it."

"Awesome," I respond. "So everything's good to go?"

"Yup," Lester answers. "Now are you sure you don't want to sing—?"

"I'm not singing," I cut him off. 

Lester sighs. "Fine. I'll be ready."

"Thanks, man."

Lester gives me a fist bump before heading off to go upstairs again. Reed gives me a hard pat on the back, probably because he can tell how nervous I am. 

"Chill, man," Reed says. "I'll give you the cue."

I nod, and he gives my back one more pat before walking off toward the far doors to the gym around by the bleachers. I step up to the smaller door next to me and open it to step right into the middle of my teammates passing around the basketball. It flies toward me, and I catch it in front of my chest. 

"TJ," Ross says at my appearance, "you ready to give it your all?"

"I'm gonna give it everything I have," I tell him, only partially referring to the actual basketball game. "Go big or go home."

I shove the ball across the circle of teens to him, and he stops it in his hands. 

"That's the right mindset," Ross responds. 

I smile and glance over at the bleachers. It takes a minute to find him, but I spot Cyrus sitting next to my sister, her girlfriend, and his friends at the very top of the bleachers. When my eyes meet his, he quickly looks away toward Andi. He's probably still torn about his emotions, and I don't blame him. I've been a real jerk to him. But I'm hoping, by the end of this game, he'll believe that I'm going to treat him right from here on out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more part left! We getting close to being done. I didn't try to make this the same length as LNPC, but it just happened. If you haven't read Late Night Phone Calls, consider this my self-promotion asking you to read it, cause I really love that one. The next chapter is going to be fun (hopefully if i do it right), so yeah. Thank you so much for reading! I love you all! See you again soon!


	21. Is That TJ?

**Cyrus' POV**

 

The game is exactly like how Buffy's games were in middle school, the only difference being my peculiar inability to take my eyes off one really attractive player. Nothing special has happened. It's the same as any other game, but I do notice TJ glance up at me every once in a while, and I always look away to focus on my friends instead when he does. I've spent far too long wondering what that boy thinks, and, honestly, I'm just tired. 

"Are you sure you're okay to be here?" Andi checks. 

"Yeah," I reply. "I'm fine. I'm just . . ."

Right as I look back to the basketball game, I catch TJ's eyes, and he gives me a small smile paired with a wink before rushing off to the side of the court with the rest of his team. The simple action renders me silent, stuck on the question of what it means. 

Suddenly, I realize that neither basketball team is on the court, and TJ has somehow gotten lost in the crowd of his teammates. I can no longer pick him out, which is unusual, because I find I'm often able to spot him even when I wish I wouldn't. The audience in the bleachers becomes restless, moving around while they talk. 

"What's going on?" I wonder. 

"It's half-time," Buffy answers. 

"Oh, right," I respond. 

Marty sits on the other side of Buffy, with Jonah at the far end beside Walker. I've only ever seen Jonah together with Walker before they were a couple, but I couldn't possibly miss the chemistry anymore. They've been chatting and giggling together throughout the whole first half of the game. 

Their attention is stolen away from each other when our Principal, Dr. Metcalf, who somehow managed to follow us from middle school to high school, steps up into the centre of the gym with a microphone. He clears his throat to get the crowd to hush before speaking. 

"Hello, everyone. I just want to mention that our drama club is working on a play, but it needs funding for props and costumes. During this short break, I encourage you all to go check out the drama club bake sale happening in the foyer."

As he speaks, I notice Reed casually walking up behind Metcalf, and my friends and I share confused glances. 

"I'll now let you guys go do that," Metcalf continues. "Thanks for your attention."

All of a sudden, the microphone is swiped by Reed, and Metcalf looks stunned as Reed tries to explain himself to the crowd. 

"Just hold up one more minute," Reed says.

Metcalf stares at him angrily, but Reed ignores him, keeping his eyes on the crowd. 

"How's everyone doing tonight?" he asks. 

The crowd is silent.

"Cool, cool. So, um, you know, it's really great to be part of a team like our Grant boys' basketball team," Reed says. "I'm not on the team, but I think it'd be pretty cool to know that no matter what, you've always got these guys who will support you and push you to do your best. Win or lose, they've got each other's backs. And it doesn't matter how smart you are, how cool you are, who you love. All that matters is your love for the game."

"What's going on?" Marty whispers to me.

"I have no idea," I reply. 

"I know I've interrupted a lot of your time," Reed goes on, "and, drama club, sorry for keeping your customers away from your bake sale, but one of my friends, one who's actually on the basketball team, has something really important to say."

Reed turns around, looking behind him at where the lights have focussed. Everywhere else is dim, aside from the spotlight illuminating the blonde boy in a tuxedo as he walks up to take the microphone. 

"Is that TJ?" Andi says. 

Buffy nudges my arm, giving me a grin, and I can't help but smile too at the sight of this boy who's nervously looking up at me from under a spotlight. Butterflies swarm inside me, and my heart starts racing at the realization of what's happening. TJ takes the mic from Reed, and Reed steps away, leaving just TJ stuck in the stares of a few hundred people, but none of them are looking at him the way I am. 

He takes a breath, and I feel my heart pound against my ribs as he begins to rap. 

"Once I met this boy,   
and he took my breath away.   
I didn't know what I was feeling,   
couldn't find the words to say. 

"I fell head over heels,  
only knew him for two weeks.   
But he's smart, kind, and funny.  
When we kiss, I feel heat. 

"He knows how to make me smile,  
pushes me to do my best,  
brightens every situation,  
makes my heart beat in my chest.

"But I thought we couldn't work,  
because we were not the same.   
I believed I shouldn't like him,  
thought it couldn't be this way. 

"I acted real stupid,  
tried to hide him from my friends,  
should've given him the world  
instead of trying to pretend.

"I didn't feel normal,  
thought I was a little strange.  
Well, I did some self-reflection,  
and I guess I'm kinda gay.

"Now I'm rapping in this gym,  
cause I don't want this to end,   
and I'm asking, Cyrus Goodman,   
will you be my boyfriend?"

Light reflects in his green eyes as he stares up at me in question. This is everything I asked for and so much more. I wanted him to say he cared, to show me that I meant more to him than some stupid reputation. He's doing all of that, and he's doing it in a tuxedo.

The second I stand up, all eyes fall on me, and I rush down the bleachers, leaping from bench to bench. Clusters of people split apart to make way for me as I give in to the pull toward the blonde basketball player at the bottom of the bleachers. Reed knows TJ well enough to take the microphone from his hand before TJ runs forward to meet me halfway. When I reach the last step, I throw my arms over TJ's shoulders, and he picks me up by my waist and spins me around. I hear the rumble of cheering and applause sound from the bleachers as he sets my feet on the ground then tilts his head down to kiss me. 

I wanted to kiss him like ever since I met him—no fear, no confusion, no holding back. Just us together with no second thoughts and no reason to stop. But we eventually do, and I trace his jawline with my thumb, letting my heart fall into his, knowing it will land safely. 

"Is that a yes?" TJ asks. 

"Yes, that's a yes," I respond with a laugh. "That's definitely a yes."

_________________________________________

**TJ's POV**

 

After the game, my teammates all group together away from me, and I debate in my head whether or not I should try to go over as well. None of them said anything after they heard my speech. They just got right back to playing, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Right when I'm about to go off to find Reed and Lester instead, I hear Ross call my name. I turn back around to see him walking over to me alongside the rest of the guys. Ross stops in front of me, and I brace myself for the worst. 

"I think we all owe you an apology," he says. 

My eyes go wide in surprise. 

"We didn't know how much that kid meant to you," Daniel adds. 

"Yeah," Ross agrees. "And Reed is right. We should've supported you, not put you down for wanting to hang around him."

"Thanks, guys," I say.

"We just have one condition," James, another one of my teammates, says. "Don't make us listen to you rap again."

He chuckles, and I accept it, keeping my disagreement silent, because I don't care enough to argue. 

"I thought it was fantastic," comes a voice behind me. 

I look back to see Cyrus approaching. He smiles at my basketball friends, and Daniel flips his eyes from Cyrus to me as I slide my hand into Cyrus', fitting them together like puzzle pieces. I think that might be exactly it; he's the other half of a puzzle I didn't realize I was a part of until I met him. 

"It's the boy from the rap," Ross says to Cyrus. 

"That is I," Cyrus confirms. 

"You be good to Kippen," Ross says. "He's one of our best players."

Cyrus smiles then looks at me, saying, "I certainly will."

Then Reed and Lester show up, joining the cluster of teens, and Reed rests his elbow on Ross' shoulder. 

"Did you like my work with the spotlight?" Lester asks. 

"Yeah, you did good," I respond. 

"Reed, that was one sappy speech you made," Daniel comments with a laugh. 

"I'll take that as a compliment," Reed responds. "By the way, I'm bi."

"Yeah, we fucking been knew, bro," Ross says, shoving Reed's elbow off his shoulder. 

While the group laughs together, and the guys begin listing off every time Reed's said something that was clearly not heterosexual, Cyrus pulls me away. Now separated from the group, Cyrus takes my other hand as well and pivots to face me. 

"There's someone I want you to meet," Cyrus says. 

"Who is this someone?" I ask. 

"My mom," Cyrus replies. "I think she'll like you."

"Does she know about us?" 

"I've mentioned our date, but she doesn't know you're my boyfriend yet," Cyrus explains. "She just got here to pick me up, and I wanted to introduce you to her. But if you don't want to—"

"I want to," I cut him off. 

He smiles before turning to pull me along out of the gym. A few random people comment about how cute we are and give us congratulations as we pass through the foyer to get outside. 

When we step out onto the concrete path, the sky is already dark, and our long shadows from the lights on the brick school walls stretch over the ground. There are several people waiting out here, but only one woman who waves to us. She has long dark hair and eyes like Cyrus'. 

"Mom," Cyrus says as she approaches. "This is TJ."

"Really?" she responds with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you! Cyrus has said so much about you."

"Mom," Cyrus stops her. 

"Hey, no," I tell Cyrus. "If Reed can tell you that I talk about you, then your mom can say you talk about me."

"I guess that's fair," Cyrus responds. 

"You seem like a sweet boy, TJ," Cyrus' mom goes on. 

"Thanks, Mrs. Goodman."

"Oh, no," she says. "Call me Leslie."

"Leslie," I repeat. "Sounds good."

I glance at Cyrus, whose eyes are stuck on me, before looking back to his mother to ask her a question.

"Leslie, would it be okay if I took Cyrus from you for a bit longer?"

"Well, what time will you have him home by?" she wonders. 

"Uh . . ." I'd like to stay with him forever, but I know that's and unreasonable request, so I settle for what I think his mom is more likely to agree to. "Midnight?"

"How about ten," she suggests, shutting down my initial proposal. 

"Ten," I respond. 

"I'll see you later, sweetheart," Leslie says to her son before walking back toward the parking lot. 

When she's gone, Cyrus looks to me. 

"So where are you planning on taking me?" he asks. 

"Doesn't matter," I say. "Anywhere's good as long as you're there."

"Since when do you outwardly express your emotions?" Cyrus teases. 

"Since my emotions became too big to keep inside," I respond.

Cyrus smiles and rises up on his tiptoes to kiss my lips again, and for a second I nearly believe that the sun has come up again after dusk, but I know it's just him. 

________________________________________

**Amber's POV**

 

I lie on my bed, looking at the photo of Andi and I on my phone that I took with her before leaving TJ's game. If I squint, I can almost make myself think that the photo is on my ceiling instead of on my device. But when my vision sharpens again, the truth stares blatantly down at me again. I can't put the photo up there. My parents could see that, and they don't know yet. 

I set down my phone but continue to lie on my bed, doing nothing. My mind wanders to TJ and how he did that huge romantic gesture for Cyrus. It was strange seeing him so in love and so vulnerable with someone, because I've never seen him that way before. I even think that if our parents had seen it, they couldn't deny the fact that TJ belongs with Cyrus. They'd know that what he feels, and what I feel, is real. 

My contemplation is interrupted by the sound of the door closing downstairs, and, a few seconds later, TJ passes through the hall, stopping in my doorway. 

"Hey," he says. 

"Hey," I respond with a grin. "How do you feel? My little brother has a boyfriend. That's so exciting."

"Yeah, it's—" he lets out a breath "—pretty amazing."

Then he takes his phone out of his pocket and checks it before glancing out into the hall quickly. 

"Hey, do you know where Mom and Dad are?" he asks me. "They texted while I was out. They said they need to talk to me."

"What about?" I ask. 

He shrugs. "Beats me."

Suddenly, I hear my mother's voice from downstairs, followed by two sets of footsteps. 

"TJ?"

Both of my parents appear at the doorway, and TJ and I both watch as they enter into my room. I guess my room has become a family gathering spot tonight. As long as no one knocks anything over, I'll tolerate it. 

"TJ, we have to tell you something," Dad says. 

"Okay," TJ replies. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, nothing like that," Mom answers. "Remember how we said we wouldn't be able to make it to your basketball game today?"

Instantly, I realize where this is going, and the look on TJ's face tells me that he does too. He steps back, creating a space between him and our parents wide enough that they can't touch him if they reach across. 

"We both managed to get off work early today so that we could go," Mom explains. 

TJ stands quiet for a moment to take in the ultimate meaning behind what our mom is saying. 

"You saw," he mutters. 

"We did," Mom responds gently. "And we're proud of you."

TJ and I exchange glances of shock and joy at that, a smile growing on TJ's face. 

"We wanted to talk to you after the game, but we couldn't find you," Dad says. "Now I have to tell you this: It must've taken a lot of guts to stand up and do what you did today, and I couldn't have asked for a better son than you." 

He steps forward, and TJ doesn't move. Instead, he lets our dad place his hands on his shoulders.  

"You are so strong and brave, and I'm sorry you felt like you needed to hide who you are from us."

TJ's eyes are starting to glisten. I'm on the edge of tears as well, but they overflow when I speak up to interrupt the touching moment happening with news of my own. 

"I'm gay too," I say. 

My parents both turn to me in surprise, but they don't look angry. 

"I guess we're two for two," Dad says, making both TJ and I laugh. 

Rather than joining into the laughter, my mother lets out a sigh and plops down on my bed beside me, putting her arm around me to pull me into a hug. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice cracking a little as she wipes at the tears that have dampened her cheeks. "I feel like a horrible mother. I should've noticed. I should've helped you when you were figuring this out. Oh, god, I told you to take down that rainbow from your car because I thought you wouldn't want people to think you're gay. But you are gay."

"It's okay," I say. "I'm not mad."

"I'm mad at myself," she says. 

"Don't be," I tell her. "You love us, right? That's all that matters."

"Of course I love you," my mom cries. "I love you both more ta  anything in the world."

TJ and my dad walk over to sit down and join the group hug. When we've all finished crying, we let each other go. 

"So," my mom starts, "tell me about this boyfriend of yours."

TJ grins but glances to me, saying, "I will, but I vote Amber tells us about her girlfriend first."

I feel my face turn red as all eyes turn to me, but I'm too busy smiling to get annoyed at TJ's clever pass of the attention away from him. 

"Her name's Andi," I say. 

My parents listen closely to every word I say as I ramble on about my girlfriend and everything I love about her. After that, I bug TJ to tell us more about Cyrus, a topic which TJ can't help but smile while talking about, which also makes me parents smile. There's one moment while TJ is talking when I realize that all four of us are smiling at the same time, and that's when it hits me that everything is going to be okay. We are all okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh. I just finished this story. And the ending turned out better than I initially expected it to be, so I'm content. Thank you all so much for reading this and commenting all the way through. The consistent commenters are the ones who really make my day, so thank you for that. I've got ideas for new stories coming soon, so please continue to stick with me and support me if you so choose. I love you all! Have a positively dandy day.


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